Til the Sea Do Us Part
by MistressOfImladris
Summary: A story documenting the events from Celebrian's capture to the Peredhils' reunion in Valinor. An AU fic, the first book of which is complete. Rated for mild violence and angst, but nothing graphic. Formerly titled The Violin.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is an AU fiction, and I make no profit from it, as I own nothing but the mistakes and inconsistencies. I am not 100% happy with the title, and it may change in the future.

 **Part I**

Elrohir Elrondion moved silently down the hall, violin and bow in hand. Coming to the music room, he opened the door and was met by the instructor, Erestor. 'Welcome, my Lord Elrohir. Take your place.' Erestor said as he bowed his head. Elrohir glared jokingly at him. Everyone knew how the sons of Elrond hated to be called 'Master' or 'Lord.' Erestor and Glorfindel, their chief tutors, did it continually to tease them.

Several Elves were already in the room, tuning their instruments or flipping through their music scores. Elrohir took his place between two of his friends, Farathír and Brengil. They too, had violins.

To any Elf who just stuck his head into the room out of curiosity, the noise would be dreadful: dozens of different instruments all wailing together on different notes, some horribly out of tune. To the players though, and to Erestor, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone was used to it.

Elrohir noticed that Farathír and Brengil were strangely quiet today. 'What is wrong?' he asked them at length. 'You look as though you expect to meet a Balrog coming around a corner at any moment.'

Farathír looked at Elrohir wryly. 'It is our sister again, melon nin. She has taken a turn for the worse. This time she is finding it more difficult to breathe, and it is making our family go distracted. '

'So I had noticed,' Elrohir said, still looking carefully at the two brothers. 'There is something else worrying you, though, I think.' He paused, but they offered no comment, other than a stealthy glance between each other. 'Well, I cannot very well force it out of either of you.' He went back to tuning his violin.

Five minutes later, the instruments were all in tune, and they were ready to start their practice.

Erestor walked to the center of the room, his eyes slowly roving over his students, taking in every one of them. He, too, noticed how Farathír and Brengil would not hold his gaze, but decided to say nothing.

For the first half hour of the practice, Elrohir concentrated on his playing. However, in the second half of it, he noticed a strange feeling of foreboding gradually getting stronger and stronger. He felt for his bond with Elladan and found that his twin was fine, and that Elladan sensed nothing.

'Elrohir!'

Elrohir jumped at the sound of his name being barked out. He glanced at Erestor, who was bestowing his best glare on him. 'Pay attention, Elrondion!'

Elrohir bowed his head slightly in apology. 'Yes, Erestor. Forgive me.'

Erestor nodded curtly and signaled for the music to commence again. Elrohir managed to keep his mind on what he was doing for the most part instead of thinking about the feeling he had.

Before he knew it, the orchestra had come to a difficult run in the piece they were playing. Jerking his mind back to complete alertness, he just managed to do the whole phrase without messing up. Inwardly, he sighed in relief. He had gone through much trouble – at his family's expense, who were put through the torture of hearing the same part over and over again – to get it perfect, for, along with difficult finger-work, there was a major crescendo to master.

A moment later, he was cringing as he missed a note. He glanced up to see Erestor arch an eyebrow at him, reminding Elrohir of his father. Much to his relief, Erestor glanced away a moment later when one of the cellos made the same unfortunate mistake Elrohir just had.

Suddenly Elrohir felt a stab of pain in his right arm, which was holding the bow. With a low cry, he stopped playing, dropping the bow.

'Now what is it, Elrohir? Are you ill?' Erestor's voice was worried with a slight tinge of annoyance in it as the other instruments came to a stand-still.

Elrohir's face was deadly pale, his dark eyes wide. He was grasping his upper-arm with his left hand and leaning heavily on Brengil.

'I...I... my arm. I must go. I must find Adar!' Elrohir now knew what the feeling of foreboding had meant.

Dropping his violin which landed with a crash that made Erestor cringe, Elrohir made his way between the other musicians and past Erestor. His gait was slow and unsteady; he looked as though he were about to collapse. Erestor glanced at Lindir.

'Go with him, then come back here when he has reached his father.'

Lindir nodded and carefully placed his flute on the music-rack. He took Elrohir's arm and guided him out of the room. Farathír bent down and picked up the violin and bow from where they lay beside him.

'Give them to me; I will take care of it,' Erestor said, taking the instrument. After setting the violin and bow down on a shelf near him, he turned back to the orchestra. 'We will begin at– ,' he looked down at his score. '– at bar eighty-six, once Lindir returns.'

After a couple moments, Lindir re-entered to the room. The lesson went smoothly from there on.

Lindir and Elrohir made their way towards Elrond's study, where they knew the Elf-lord would be at the time. After seeing that Elrohir was safely at the study, Lindir turned back towards the music room.

Elrohir knocked and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, trying to regain his composure. At the sound of his father's voice bidding him to enter, Elrohir straightened and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him gently.

'Elrohir? I thought you would be practicing with Erestor right now.' Elrond put down the quill he was holding and put the document he was writing aside to dry. He gestured towards a chair on the other side of the desk.

'I was, Adar.' Elrohir took the seat gratefully, for his legs felt as though they wouldn't hold for much longer. 'I was in the middle of the Overture when it felt as though I was stabbed in my right arm. I dropped my violin on the floor. Erestor is going to have something to say to me when he next sees me, I expect.' Elrohir looked forlornly at the floor. 'Adar, something is wrong! Elladan is fine, you are fine, and Naneth is in Lórien with Grandmother and Grandfather.'

Elrond folded his hands in front of his face and rested his chin on them. He regarded his younger son with an unreadable expression on his face. 'You do not look well, Elrohir. Here.' He pushed a goblet of miruvor towards Elrohir, who just stared at it unseeingly. 'Drink it,' he commanded firmly.

With a sigh, Elrohir reached forward and took the crystal goblet. 'It was most likely just an after-affect of your broken arm. You know you still feel it if you work your arm too much.'

'Holding a violin bow does not stress it enough to make it hurt so much, Adar, and you know that!' Elrohir drew his brows together in a very faithful imitation of his sire.

'And yet there is no better explanation. Come here and let me see your arm.' Elrond scooted his chair to one side to make room for Elrohir.

Elrohir made his way to his father's side. Elrond rolled up his son's sleeve and inspected where the arm had been badly broken some weeks ago after being kicked by a rearing horse. 'It is red, but nothing else. Does it still pain you?' As he spoke, he gently squeezed the arm, feeling along the bone, which had seemingly knitted together again well.

'It just aches, but not like it usually does.'

'Usually?' Elrond raised an eyebrow at that. 'Does it bother you often?'

'Nooo,' drawled Elrohir. 'Not often. I have just felt it more than usual recently. And not in the same way. Not even in the same place. Usually I feel it here.' He pointed to just above his elbow. 'But now it is closer to my shoulder.'

Elrond grunted slightly. 'I think you should be careful for the next few weeks until we can make sure that it is completely healed. It was a bad break, remember.'

Elrohir was adamant, though. 'I do not think the broken arm caused the pain today. It was not like anything I have experienced for a long time. The last time I felt something remotely alike was when Elladan was tortured after he was kidnapped so many years ago.'

At this, Elrond frowned deeply. 'If it shall be of comfort to you, I shall send a messenger to Lórien immediately, making sure everything is as it should be.'

Elrohir nodded gratefully as he righted his sleeve. Elrond leaned forward and kissed his son's forehead. 'Go and rest for a while now. You truly do look unwell.'

Elrohir stood up and turned to leave. 'And Elrohir?'

He turned around. 'Yes?'

'There is no need to worry, I am sure.'

Elrohir ducked his head again and left the study as Elrond took the now-dry piece of paper and read over it.

True to his word, Elrond sent out a messenger to the Golden Wood to ask after the Lady Celebrian. Even with the fastest runner, though, it would take about a week to get to the edge of the Wood realm of Galadriel and Celeborn.

Elrohir had little to say for the next few days and, to Elladan and Elrond's worry, he did not regain his full colour and was often found sitting in the library or on the balcony of his rooms dreaming. He did not eat as much as usual, and was getting thinner than Elladan and Elrond liked.

Several times Elladan tried to get him to tell him what was worrying him so much, but Elrohir stayed silent. His brother had not felt the disturbance around him, and suspected nothing.

Throughout the week, Elrohir felt the pain come, sometimes sharper than the first time, sometimes just a dull ache, many times. As it happened more frequently and as it got more severe, his father grew concerned and felt for his bond with his wife. He could not find it.

Finally after what seemed an age, the runner arrived back in Imladris. The news he brought to Elrond and his sons was not promising: their wife and mother had not arrived in Lothlórien. However, as the runner had passed over the Redhorn Pass, he had found signs of a battle and the snow was covered in blood: blood of both Elves and Orcs. Besides that, the messenger said, they had found the cloak Celebrian had been wearing when she set out for her parents' realm.

Elrond had paled visibly at this news, and had said nothing to anyone for a long while. Elladan and Elrohir had opted to go out and search for their mother at once, but Elrond had forbidden it.

'You shall not leave; at any rate, not Elrohir.' Elrond held up a hand to still Elrohir's protest. 'Look at yourself in the mirror, Elrohir. Then you will understand why I cannot allow you to go.'

'Then may I not go instead?' Elladan's voice was fearful and distressed; his black eyes were snapping like the fire on the hearth.

'I do not know,' Elrond sighed. 'I feel that it is not safe for you to leave the boundaries of the land, and yet something is wrong with Celebrian. I have sent Glorfindel and two score warriors to search, and they shall return only when they have found your Naneth.'

Ignoring the twin scowls that were directed his way, he stood and went to the window. Leaning against the wall and looking far out towards the forest, he massaged his temples. 'I am as worried as you are, my sons, but I will not have you do anything rash.'

'But she is our mother! She may be in grave danger! She may be dying! We must go to her and rescue her!' Elrohir's voice was raised, an unusual sound.

'She is my wife, and you are my son. She will be found by Glorfindel and brought back to her family; meanwhile you and your brother will do as I say. Is that understood?' Elrond's eyes flashed in slight anger.

Elrohir took a step back. 'Yes, Adar. Forgive me, I spoke in haste.'

With a small nod of his head, Elrond turned back to the window, tapping his booted foot on the floor in frustration. 'She should have reached Lórien weeks ago, and yet we did not hear of her failure to do so until now.'

'Perhaps Grandfather sent a messenger but he never reached here.' Elladan hesitated for a long moment. 'Perhaps he was waylaid by Orcs.'

'Perhaps. In all likelihood, we will not find out. Now leave me, I beg you; I wish to think.'

Elladan and Elrohir inclined their heads to their Lord and left the room, shutting the door softly behind them.

Back in their rooms, Elladan turned on his younger brother so suddenly Elrohir jumped. 'I for one am not staying here, just waiting for them to bring back Naneth. She could be dead, and if she is, I shall avenge her until my death.'

Elrohir just stared. 'Adar told us Glorfindel would not return till Naneth was found. Surely that is enough! Besides, Adar told us clearly that we were to stay here.'

'Are you coming or are you staying?' Elladan's eyes were flashing dangerously. 'I think that Adar is making a mistake in making us stay here.'

'Nonetheless, he _is_ our father, and we ought to obey him.'

'Then do. As for myself, I am going immediately. Farewell.' Elladan strode past Elrohir to the wall where his sword was hung up. Without another word, he buckled it on and left the room, slamming the door to behind him.

Elrohir stood in the middle of the room, gazing at the door, as though thinking. Suddenly he moved to a chest near his bed, and took out his bow and quiver. He stepped out into the hallway and glanced around; he saw his brother far down the hall. 'Elladan, wait!'

Elladan stopped and turned around, facing Elrohir. 'Yes, muindor nin?'

'I will come,' Elrohir said softly.

Elladan answered with a small smile and jerked his head, as though to say, 'Then get over here, or you will be left behind.'

Once they got to the stable, they saddled their Elven steeds, twin black stallions. Elrohir strapped his quiver and bow to his back, then leapt onto his horse, Beleg. Elladan did likewise with Beledhel.

Together they raced out the stable and through the gates. Soon they were going over a wide plain, coming ever closer to the mountain range. Both were silent, wondering if their mother was lying injured somewhere alone, or if she was being tormented by the foul Orcs. They could not decide which one was better. They also both knew that it would take a little over a week at the least to reach the Redhorn Pass, perhaps more if they had trouble on the way.

That night they camped at the base of the mountains. They decided that it would be wise to keep a watch since more and more reports of roaming Orc bands were being brought to Elrond. Neither were particularly hungry, nor tired. They sat up late into the night brooding, starting at every night noise that they heard. Far off an owl hooted and Elladan jumped up, grasping his sword.

'It will get worse in the mountains,' Elrohir prophecied glumly. 'We will have to be on our guard constantly there. Why did Naneth have to take the Pass?'

'It was not known that the Orcs were taking that route,' Elladan consoled himself as much as his brother, sitting down again but keeping his hand on his sword. 'The Orcs were known to take the longer way around the mountains instead through them.'

'I know. But why did they have to take the Pass this time, when Naneth was going through it?' Elrohir was standing now, pacing around the small campfire.

'No one can answer that, Rohir, you know that! What matters is, it happened, and now Naneth is suffering at their hands perhaps and we are going to rescue her. So let us say no more about it.'

Elrohir sat down again and was silent. A moment later, though, he stood up again. 'Elladan, let us keep going. The horses are rested, and we are doing nothing but fret at our idleness.'

'It is dangerous to brave the mountains in the dark.' Elladan, though worried, knew how dangerous the narrow mountain paths could be in the dark.

'You were not afraid to go against Adar's orders to find Naneth, and yet you are afraid to continue searching in the mountains during the night! The mountains are not even treacherous for the first hundred miles.' Elrohir's voice was scoffing.

Elladan sat in silence, considering, for a few moments. At last he stood up with a sigh and said, 'Alright, we shall go on. But if the path gets too dangerous before sunup, we shall have to stop.'

Elrohir nodded his consent and rose to re-saddled Beleg and Beledhel while Elladan gathered their packs and blankets.

Soon they were on their way again, going as fast as was wise on the path towards the peak of the mountain. As they got farther up the air got colder and thinner. They did not speak much, for both were concentrating their thoughts on the peak of the mountain which seemed farthest away: Caradhras.

In Rivendell, Elrond paced the study in an agony of worry and anger, his boots making a firm clicking noise on the wooden floor. Every now and then, he strode to the window and looked out at the sky. It was nearing noon now, and he had heard nothing from either of his sons for a while.

His reverie was broken by a sharp knock on the door. 'Enter.'

The door opened slowly and a dark-haired Elf slipped in. He bowed, his right hand on his breast.

'Erestor,' said Elrond, giving a smile that did not reach his eyes.

'It is past the time for the mid-day meal, my lord. Will you come?' Erestor glanced around the room, silently gasping at the messy state of the study.

'I will come in a moment. Did you tell Elladan and Elrohir?' Elrond wasn't sure if he imagined seeing Erestor open and close his mouth before replying with a quiet, 'I shall go to their room.'

After Erestor left the study, Elrond quickly straightened his desk of the papers and maps which had been strewn over the top.

When he entered the dining hall five minutes later, he found he and Erestor were the only ones there. 'Where are the twins? Are they not coming?'

Erestor looked decidedly uncomfortable. 'Well... they were not in either of their rooms. On an impulse, we went to the stables: both Beleg and Beledhel are missing.'

'They defied me! I might have known they would. I told them in the strictest terms _not_ to leave the Valley.'

'Perhaps they have not left to search for Lady Celebrian. Mayhap they have only gone for a ride by Bruinen.'

Elrond gave his counsellor a look that would freeze water in the middle of summer. 'Do not be foolish. I shall return in a moment.' Elrond stood up from his chair and strode out of the room, towards the training grounds, where he knew most of the Imladris Guard were training.

'Hérion! I want you to take a score of your best warriors to the mountains. Elladan and Elrohir have gone off without my permission after their mother. I want you to get them back.'

Hérion, the trainer, glanced at the long rows of Elven warriors fencing and practising their archery.

'I will gather them at once and leave. Fear not, my lord.'

 _Nonetheless,_ Elrond mused as he moved back towards the house, _I do fear._ _There is some great evil in the mountains. My wife has been taken by it and my sons are running into it, rashly as always._

He ate his meal in silence, every now and then casting a glance at his chief counsellor, who was staring out the window towards the mountain range.

'Hérion has taken twenty of his command to search for the twins. They shall be found soon and I shall not let them out of my sight until Glorfindel returns.'

Erestor slowly turned his eyes to his lord. 'Why do you not let them go after her? You know they are more than adept with their weapons.'

'Two against who-knows-how-many? I am not a fool Erestor, whatever some others may think.'

'He who thinks you a fool is a fool himself,' Erestor replied. 'Still, driven with their anger and worry,' – here he glanced again at Elrond – 'I think that they will come to no harm, from the Orcs at any rate.'

Elrond merely grunted. 'I also was a twin, Erestor. I know what it is like when someone you love is taken from you and you have your other half pressuring you to do something, whether you like it or not.'

Erestor, not having had any siblings, had nothing to say and, with another sympathetic glance at his friend fell silent.

The sun came up and the twins quickened their pace. They knew from experience that Lord Elrond had almost certainly sent out some of the Imladris Guard to take them back, by force if need be, to Rivendell.

Since Orcs did not generally come through the mountains, the two Elves had little trouble for the next three or four days, though it was obvious that the foul creatures had been around.

However, nearing the sixth day, it became obvious that soon it would be impossible for the horses to continue the journey. Yet the twins persisted in their haste to get to their mother.

Suddenly, on a particularly snowy slender path, Beleg stumbled. As the horse fought to regain his footing, Elrohir kicked free of the stirrups. 'Beleg, neleth!' Beleg could not stop slipping.

'Elrohir, jump! He is going to go off the edge!' Elladan's frantic voice cut across Elrohir's desperate attempts to save Beleg.

For a breathless moment, it looked as though Elrohir were going to ignore his brother's shout, but at the last possible second he leapt off his beloved horse's back and landed on the snow in front of Beledhel.

Beledhel, spooked, reared up on his hind legs. Elrohir, who was too stunned to move, closed his eyes, waiting for the crushing pain of the iron-shod hooves being driven into his body.

But Beledhel had pranced backwards, away from his master's brother, and when he again landed, his forelegs were about a foot away from Elrohir.

An agonised whinny from his dying horse aroused Elrohir, who sat up shakily and looked around for his horse. His heart sank as he saw no trace except for the rocky side of the mountain edge where the snow had been scraped off by a heavy weight. 'Beleg?!' He scrambled over to the edge and looked down, distantly aware of his brother calling a warning. 'Beleg!'

'It is too late, Elrohir. He fell off the ledge. We do not know how far he fell. But it is too dangerous for us to continue with Beledhel. I shall send him back to the Valley.'

'But Beleg!'

'Ro, we can not do anything about him. You know that. Now come on.' The elder twin had dismounted and was cautiously turning his steed around on the snowy ledge. 'Noro lim, mellon nin, noro lim!'

Beledhel set off at a quick trot back towards the House of Elrond.

Elladan stood, staring up at the clear blue sky, deep in thought.

'Elladan! Elves. They are coming. They have caught up to us.' Elrohir finally turned away from the ledge where, sure enough, there were twenty or so horses and their riders slowly but steadily making their way up the mountain side, when he received no answer. 'Ladan?'

Elladan finally drew near to the edge and crouched there, staring at the tiny moving shapes. 'I wonder if we should merely wait here until they get to us. We may as well go back to Adar. Glorfindel, after all, is not coming back until he finds Naneth.'

'But Elladan, we have come this far, and now neither of us have horses. Besides, it might help put as back in Adar's good graces if we returned with Naneth,' he finished, making an attempt at humour. 'Besides, it was you who wanted us to find her so badly when we found out. It would not make sense for you to want to give up so soon.'

'Soon? Elrohir, it has been nearly a week. Most likely Glorfindel has already found her and is on his way back to Imladris with her.'

'He has not found her. We would have felt it, Elladan. You know we would have. Now stop making excuses and let us continue on. They are getting closer.'

Elladan sighed in resignation. 'Alright then. At least this part will slow them down. Surely they will not be so foolhardy as to attempt to bring their horses along here, as we did.'

'And we can always refuse to go with them. We are, after all, higher in rank than they are.' Elrohir stood up, dusting off the snow from his tunic.

'Yes, we are, but Adar is higher than we are, and he obviously sent them out to find us and bring us back tied in sacks if necessary, I expect.'

And so the two went on, running now, walking then. The snow was not deep for the wall of rock to the right of them overhung the path, keeping most of the snow from landing on the path. It was nearing the supper hour when the desperate twins began to tire, yet one thought drove them on through the deepening dusk:

Caradhras drew ever closer, looming up in the distance.

TBC...

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS

Mellon nin - my friend

Muindor nin - my brother

Neleth - steady

Noro lim, mellon nin, noro lim! - run swift, my friend, run swift!


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

The twenty Elves, led by Hérion, were beginning to get discouraged for a heavy snowfall had covered any tell-tale signs of the twins. However, they were nearing the mid-point of the mountain which stood beside Caradhras when they were met with a sure indication that they were on the right path: Beledhel appeared from around a bend in the path, spotted with foam and bleeding from a cut in the left foreleg.

The tired horse ran up to the group and whinnied, tossing his head towards where he had come from before.

'Beledhel! Where are they, my beauty, where is your master and his brother?' Hérion pulled an apple from his pack and fed it to the horse, speaking in low, soothing Elvish all the while. 'Take us to them, Beledhel. You must lead us.'

Beledhel, seemingly understanding the Elf's words, turned and walked back to where he had first appeared. Once at the turn, he waited for the cluster of Elves and horses to catch up. Then he led the way onwards to where he had been sent down by Elladan.

Suddenly, though, he stopped and whinnied. Leaving the path, he trotted down into a small valley. There, broken and bloody, was the body of Beleg, Elrohir's horse.

Hérion and a few others had followed the horse down into the valley and they too were horrified at what they saw. They could not be sure that the two Elves were not here also, either terribly injured or dead. Looking around, they saw no traces of anything other than the horse.

Blood was splattered on the sparkling white snow; it was an eerie scene. Elrohir's pack lay a distance off.

'You do not suppose...' began one the warriors.

'No!' interrupted Hérion, not wanting to think about what he knew everyone else was. 'They cannot be dead. We would have found them, almost certainly. We shall continue. There is nothing left here to see.'

With one glance back at the mangled carcass of the younger twin's steed, Hérion motioned for the Elves to return to the path where their companions awaited them. Beledhel followed, his nose and hooves wet and shiny from nudging his bloody friend.

'Beledhel! Show us where Elladan is!' Hérion's voice was sharp, whether with emotion or fatigue the Elves knew not.

At length, they came to where Beleg had fallen to his death. The Elves, as Elladan and Elrohir had known they would, dismounted and went to inspect the trail.

Hérion, who had spent much time with the Dúnedain, could quite easily figure out what had happened by the marks in the snow: where Beleg had slipped, and where his scrambling hooves had fought for a hold, where Elrohir had landed when he jumped off his horse's back. He could see that Beledhel had reared and where Elrohir had crawled to the edge to look down in despair for his beloved animal.

'They went on without their horses from here. They cannot be too far ahead then.' Hérion glanced back at the horses. 'However... we, too, must continue on foot from here. Send the horses back to Imladris. I expect that that is where Beledhel was going when he came upon us. They shall be able to fend for themselves, should they find trouble.'

Elladan and Elrohir finally fell to the ground from exhaustion, an hour after dark. They had run pretty much the whole way since stopping an hour or two for something to eat. Their water had long since run out and they had taken to eating snow when they became thirsty.

Elladan roused himself a moment later. 'Rohir, we must get away from here. We are too easy to see.'

'There is no moon tonight, Elladan. The Elves will never find us. They will not continue in the dark. There will be too much danger of missing us completely.'

'I am not speaking of the Elves. The Orcs came through the mountains once not long ago. They may do it again. It would not do if we were also captured.' Elladan immediately regretted his harsh tone. 'I am sorry, Elrohir. I am just so tired and... and so worried.'

Elrohir gave a small smile. Weren't they all? 'Alright. We can move over there.' He indicated a small cave-sort of thing, which was really only a small shelter made up of a snow drift on one side and an overhanging roof of rock. It was barely large enough for both of them to curl up underneath.

Elrohir, who had lost his pack when Beleg fell, had also lost his blanket but he made do with his cloak and part of Elladan's blanket.

They slept soundly for several hours, until both were awaken rudely by loud guttural noises and the sound of the snow crunching beneath heavy, iron-shod feet.

Luckily the rock roof of the 'cave' and the rock walls stretching up hundreds of feet above them cast shadows on the two Elves and they had little fear of being observed.

Soon the creators of the disturbances came into sight: Orcs, more than either Elf could count. They carried bright torches aloft, the light reflecting in their red, hate-filled eyes, and on their hideous, crude armour and shields.

'Yrch!' murmured Elrohir. 'They can lead us to Naneth, Elladan!'

'Hush up, Ro! Do not let them hear you.' Elladan's voice was so low Elrohir could hardly make out what he was saying.

Finally the last Orc passed and, after waiting for a while to make sure none others came, Elladan lay back, but Elrohir remained seated. 'I will keep watch. I have no wish to be taken by surprise.'

Elladan glanced up at his twin. He almost wished there was a moon so he could see what time it was. 'Wake me in a while,' he finally said. 'I shall watch too. It will not do if you fall asleep half-way through tomorrow.'

With that, they both fell silent, each engrossed in his own thoughts. Elrohir thought of the Orcs, almost certainly going to the same place that their Naneth was being held in. Elladan thought of the tongue-lashings they were going to get when they returned home to their angry parent. With that pleasant thought in his head, he fell asleep.

Nearly four hours later, Elrohir woke his brother. He was so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes open. Immediately after Elladan had sat up, Elrohir slid down to the ground and fell asleep, his eyes glazed as he stared at the rock above him in sleep.

The next time Elrohir opened his eyes, light was pouring into the cave and Elladan was going through his pack, getting breakfast ready. 'I am afraid we only have some bread and miruvor.'

'It is better than some other things,' Elrohir said, sitting up and folding the blanket small enough to fit back in Elladan's pack. 'Here,' he said, tossing the blanket to Elladan. 'You can put it in.' He stood up and wandered towards the still-obvious tracks of the Orcs.

'Dan, we are going to follow these, are we not?' He turned back to his brother who had just finished stuffing the blanket in.

'Yes,' Elladan replied shortly. He did not turn to look at the deep indents in the snow. 'They will show us to Naneth, I am sure of it.'

'So am I,' said Elrohir softly. 'There were so many, Elladan. How are we going to fight them all off if they find us? Perhaps it was not such a good idea to come by ourselves.'

Elladan snorted. 'Who else would have come, Rohir? Ada forbade us to leave the Valley. Glorfindel was gone, and in any case he would not have agreed to come – he would not have let us leave – since it was done without Ada's consent. And then Glorfindel would have forbidden any of the Guard to go with us. There was no one to go with us.' Here Elladan broke off forlornly.

'I suppose you are right.' Elrohir kicked his foot into the footprints. 'I wonder if the Orcs expect us.'

Elladan said moodily, 'Just leave them alone, Ro. There is no need to make a mess of them.'

Elrohir raised an eyebrow at him. This journey was making his brother even more quick-tempered than usual. 'Elladan...' He trailed off into silence.

In Imladris, Elrond was also in a surly temper. Everyone avoided him when he was like this, striding through the halls with a perpetual frown on his face, his eyes flashing if anyone attempted to speak to him.

Finally Erestor took things into his own hands again, as he had done before when calling Elrond to dinner. 'Lord Elrond, you simply must stop this. You are helping no one, least of all yourself.'

Elrond, surprised at the daring of this obnoxious Elf, turned on his with the most daunting frown he could make.

Erestor did not bat an eyelid. 'That will not work on me, you know, Elrond. Go and take a ride or something.'

'A ride, Erestor? A _ride_? You are asking me to forget everything to take a ride?' Elrond was incredulous. 'My wife and children are not in the safety of Imladris, and if I too leave, Imladris will be left too weak without the power of Vilya and without Glorfindel and the Guard.'

Erestor inclined his head slightly. 'Well, at least do some work in your study then, my lord.'

'I shall not do anything other than what I have been doing since dinner. Doing paperwork is no better than taking a ride.'

'Very well, Elrond. I have done my best.' So saying, Erestor turned on his heel and went down the hall, and Elrond re-commenced his pacing of the halls.

Finally, though, one the novice cooks came running towards him. 'There you are, Lord Elrond–,' she began, when she noticed his stormy countenance. 'My... my Lord, one of the maids has obtained a rather serious burn in the kitchen. Melrena asked me to find you to come look at it.'

Elrond sighed. 'I will come. Ask her to go to the healing wing.'

The maid bobbed her white-capped head and hurried off back towards the kitchen, as Elrond made his way towards the west wing of Imladris, where the healing rooms were situated.

The burn was indeed quite serious: the skin was red and blistered. Elrond applied a soothing ointment that seemed to make it feel worse before dismissing the servant to some non-strenuous work.

After putting away his supplies, Elrond sank down on one of the beds in the room, and stared at the closed door.

At length, he took the ring off his finger. It was not visible to everyone; in fact, only Celebrian, the twins, and a few other trusted Elves who knew about it could see it. The golden band sparkled brightly, yet the dark blue sapphire shone with an even greater strength.

Vilya.

His beautiful ring was the reason he could not go to his wife. Rivendell would be too susceptible to attack from Sauron's servants without him there to guard it with Vilya. Besides, he could not bear the thought of Glorfindel – or his sons – returning to Imladris again, only to find that he was not there.

There was nothing for it but to stay at the house, doing nothing except fretting and snapping at well-meaning friends.

Elladan and Elrohir continued doggedly. They went as fast as possible for there were swollen storm clouds in the distance and they did not want to risk having the Orcs' footprints filled in.

All was silent in the mountains. There was no sound of wind howling in the pine trees, no birds sang, no squirrels scolded from their green perches. It was an eerie stillness.

When the sun showed it was nearing noon, the twins finally heard something other than their own breathing: words spoken softly.

Opting to find cover till they could tell who was pursuing them, the two Elves swiftly clambered up a tree.

Sure enough, a group of some forty Elves came riding down a snowy slope. At their head was a tall, blond-haired warrior on a flawless white horse, whose trappings were decked with silvery bells.

'Glorfindel!' both twins breathed at the same time.

'They cannot be looking for us; they probably do not even know we are here,' reasoned Elladan. 'They left before us.'

'Let us join them. It would be foolhardy not to, you know. There is no way we can face the number of brutes we saw by ourselves.'

'I wonder how we came to be ahead of them, and how they managed to get past the ledge where Beledhel and Beleg left us.'

Elrohir did not answer, as his thoughts were drawn back to his dead horse when Elladan mentioned him.

The two waited quietly till the long column had passed underneath them and then leapt lightly to the ground. The last horse, sensing the presence behind them skittered to one side and attempted to turn around. The Elf, wondering what had caught the beast's attention turned in his saddle. 'My Lord Glorfindel!'

The column came to an instant stop, and soon Glorfindel came into sight, riding down the far side of the line of warriors.

'You two! I might have guessed you would come. I am assuming, though, that you were sent?'

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other. They had not expected to be questioned. Would Glorfindel send them back or allow them to continue on?

 _Maybe this was not such a good idea after all,_ the twins said silently to the other.

'N-no,' Elladan finally replied.

Glorfindel nodded his head as though finding the sons of his friend wandering through the mountains was an every-day happening. 'Were you told strictly not to come?'

This time Elrohir replied. 'Yes. But Adar was doing nothing, so we decided to go anyways.'

'Watch your impertinent mouth, young one,' said Glorfindel sternly. His brows knitted together quite like Elrond's did when he was riled. Even Elladan and Elrohir knew not to go further when Glorfindel was in this mood.

Inwardly, though, Elrohir bristled at both the admonishment and the reference to his young age – at least it was young to Glorfindel.

'In all truth, I ought to order a few of my warriors to take you home instantly. However, it was not my intent, nor was it Elrond's order, to overtake errant young Elves. Do you know if there are others looking for you?'

'We have seen no one other than you and the party of Orcs whose tracks we are currently following.'

'Where are your horses? Did you send them home when you got to the Ridge?' Glorfindel gestured back towards the way they had come.

Elladan glanced at Elrohir. 'Beleg did not survive. He slipped off the Ridge. We decided it would be dangerous for Beledhel to try to continue with us so we sent him back to the Valley. I hope he has come to no harm.'

Glorfindel nodded his head slowly.

'How did you get past the Ridge with all your mounts?' Elrohir spoke up after a moment of silence.

'We tracked another group of Orcs, thinking they may have been the ones who overtook Celebrian and that they're tracks would lead us to their hideout. But when we slaughtered them, Celebrian was nowhere to be seen. We searched thoroughly. We found their marks about a mile before the Ridge, branching off northwards. The path brought us around behind the Ridge and after destroying the Orcs we continued back to the main path by the same one, so as to miss the Ridge completely.'

'We should have thought of taking that path. Though it would be longer, we could have saved time by continuing to ride. We saw no other tracks, though,' said Elladan. 'I wonder how we missed them. When did you cross them?'

'The day after we left: five days ago. They were not much older than a day, which is why we opted to follow them.'

'Then let us not hesitate any longer. We will ride with you, if that is permissible,' broke in Elrohir again.

'I suppose you may. But if we come upon a search party, this time sent out for you, I shall send you back with them, understood?' Glorfindel bestowed his best disapproving frown on the two identical Elves.

'If you must then you must,' sighed Elladan. 'We have no mounts,' he reminded the Elf Lord.

'We have four or five riderless steeds; their masters were lost during the skirmish with the Orcs. We thought it would be better to keep them along with us if we happened to find Celebrian. Take your pick in haste.'

Glorfindel turned back to the waiting column of Elves and whistled. A moment later, four saddled horses stepped daintily along towards the twins and Glorfindel.

After Elladan and Elrohir were mounted, the long row of Elves started their long slow ride again, with Elladan and Elrohir right behind Glorfindel.

Though the twins pleaded ardently, Glorfindel refused to ride through the night. 'It would be foolish,' he said. 'We could miss something important. Besides, remember what happened to you, not five minutes after the two of you lay down to rest in plain sight of the path? You could have both been killed by the Orcs. They would have undoubtedly caught up with you in your state.'

The next evening Hérion and his warriors did indeed come upon the Elves. They had ridden through several of the nights for their war-horses were used to long treks and did not tire easily. Glorfindel happened to be on watch when the patrol rode into view and he invited the tired newcomers to spend the night with them, since when they left Elladan and Elrohir would be leaving with them.

Hérion and his companions excepted gratefully, for both they and their horses were in need of rest and food.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully but when the twins awoke they had an unpleasant surprise: their pursuers were there, in the camp, waiting to take them back to their furious lord and father. Again they tried pleading with Glorfindel.

'We have come this far already, Glorfindel, it will not be fair if you make us leave.' That Elladan was distressed was plain to all who saw him.

'Besides, Naneth will need us,' Elrohir added, his eyes beseeching and his voice soft with emotion.

'Your father needs you as well. He is alone in Rivendell: no wife, no daughter, and no sons.'

'Only Erestor.' Elladan's voice was almost pitying.

'Yes, _only_ Erestor,' repeated Glorfindel, a smile gracing his lips for a moment.

Elrohir countered Glorfindel's response with, 'If we leave, then Naneth will have no one as well: no husband, no daughter, and no sons.'

'Only me,' Glorfindel replied firmly.

Finally Elladan tried one last tactic. 'Adar never really said _I_ could not go. He did not want Elrohir to leave because he looked ill. Ro could go back and I could continue.'

'Elladan!' Elrohir's voice was now laced with annoyance and hurt. 'That is not fair! I will not go if you do not.'

'Of course you will not. Elladan, Elrohir, you are _both_ leaving with Hérion this morning as soon as camp has broken, and you shall remain with him till you have reached the House of your father. You deserve what you will get. I will say no more.'

With that, Glorfindel strode away, leaving Elladan staring at Elrohir in defeat and Elrohir staring at Elladan, still incensed by Elladan's suggestion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

In truth, there was nothing Elladan and Elrohir could do; they both knew that once Glorfindel's mind was made up, there was no chance of him changing it unless ti was for the sake of something of the utmost importance.

As Glorfindel had planned, when Hérion and his twenty riders left, Elladan and Elrohir left with them, heading back towards Rivendell.

So down in spirits were the twins that they did not even try to make conversation with their riding companions, even if they were spoken to. They answered in the barest amount of words possible and were only passably civil.

The Elves did not blame them for this: the worry and the disappointment were enough to cause it without the severe case of nerves each was undoubtedly going through added onto it all.

Elladan and Elrohir had every intention of escaping at the first chance possible, but it seemed as though Hérion was expecting this and he kept a close watch on both of them. They continued this way for two days, morose and watchful.

It was not until the group was ambushed by a small band of Orcs that a chance showed itself. After seeing that the Elves had the Orcs well in hand, Elladan and Elrohir rode quietly off into the trees and rocks, weapons at the ready in case they met any more enemies.

Before their presence could be missed, they had set off at a quick gallop, back towards Caradhras. They rode hard and fast to catch up Glorfindel's party, being sure to keep out of danger of detection.

When they found signs that they were drawing close to the Elves, they left the main path and travelled parallel to them, steadily getting ahead of them, since the path Glorfindel was on was much narrower and he had to go slower with all the horses.

Before long, Elladan and Elrohir knew it was safe to return to the main path, for they were now many miles ahead of Glorfindel. They stopped for only a few hours, five at the most, every night to rest both themselves and the horses.

Before long, they were at the base of the very mountain they meant to get to: Caradhras. They camped there, in the shelter of the rocks and trees.

The next morning, after a scanty, hurried breakfast, they started the long, difficult climb upwards. Caradhras was steeper than most of the other mountains, and was often covered in a deep blanket of snow and ice.

They were still following the Orcs' tracks. The twins were now convinced that the Orcs they had seen go by the night they had come upon Glorfindel – or rather, he upon them – were at the same place that their mother was, and this motivated them to continue on.

Then, all of a sudden, they could no longer see the tracks. They were high enough now that the path was not sheltered by overhanging rocks and the almost constant snowfalls had long since filled the footprints.

Bur from the way the trees along the path had been mutilated and hacked at, it was obvious that they were on the right track. Besides, every so often, Elladan and Elrohir came across an abandoned body at the side of the path, or hung up from a chain on the rock wall. Dark blood splattered the cliffs on both sides. There was no sign of the pure red blood of the captured Elf Lady, and for this Elladan and Elrohir were thankful.

And then it came.

The bodies of Elves, Orcs and horses alike, strewn across the snow, the blood staining trees and spears sticking up out of the snow like tombstones, marking the graves of both races. All signs of the desperate struggle had been covered long ago, but in one place, an Elf sat, leaning on the rocks with a thick-shafted arrow sticking out of his heart: Threndil, one of Elladan and Elrohir's childhood playmates.

The sight of their dead friend, eyes open in death and lips parted, perhaps in the Imladris war call, drove Elladan and Elrohir to a mad fury and, after quickly inspecting the battle scene, they strode onwards, always following the signs of the Orcs.

When they stopped that evening for a meal and rest, they were about another day's walk from the Redhorn Pass. As usual, one of the slept while the other watched, and then switched.

The sunrise was just beginning to tint the sky pink when the twins set off again. Each was silent, lost in his own thoughts, as they trekked steadily up the mountainside. Again they were on a Ridge: on their right was towering rocks with overhanging snowdrifts and tall evergreens, while on their left there was a steep, rocky drop. There were many small caves carved into the rock wall, but Elladan and Elrohir did not bother to search for the marks of the injured and dead continued on by.

They walked for several hours, the knowledge that they were less than a day from where their mother was being held drove them on relentlessly. Nearing noon, the sky darkened as though from a storm, thought the weather remained clear and mild.

Suddenly there came a great rumbling noise from above. Elladan and Elrohir instantly drew back against the mountain's protecting wall. Not far down the path, snow and dust began to hurtle down. It spread towards the Elves, making them cough and choke. Finally the rockslide appeared.

Though Elladan and Elrohir were right beside each other, the noise was so great they could not have heard if the other said something.

The slide continued rapidly for several moments, seeming to grow louder and larger every moment. Finally everything quieted and, after the dust settled, the twins ventured away from the shelter of the mountainside.

Below them, everything was hazy and brown from the dust. In front of them was another mountain of debris, so high the twins knew it would be easier to get around it than over it.

After wading through knee-deep rubble to the edge of the path, they stood side-by-side for a moment, wondering how to manage to get down without causing another rockslide.

'Glorfindel shall not be able to continue past this on the path, at least,' Elladan said after a moment. 'Unless he leaves the horses.'

'Which he will not do,' Elrohir immediately countered. 'Why were we so foolish as to try to take the horses on the ridge? If we had done otherwise, Beleg would still have been alive. My heart tells me we shall regret having no mount.'

'It was unwise of us,' admitted Elladan, still eyeing the distance from where they stood to the still-settling dust at the bottom of the drop: it was a good two hundred feet.

Suddenly Elrohir gave a squeak of surprise. 'Glorfindel! It is Glorfindel!'

Indeed, Glorfindel was within sight, a little below them but steadily getting nearer.

'He will have seen the landslide; at the least, all the dust. Quick, before he sees us too!' Elladan grabbed at Elrohir's hand, but found it snatched away from his.

'Elladan, do not be a fool! We will only start another landslide if we try to go too fast!' Elrohir grabbed Elladan and pulled him from the edge of the path. 'We have to think.'

'There is no time to think, muindor. He will quicken their pace when they see the battle scene and –'

Giving no warning, Elladan leapt for the edge again, with Elrohir in tow and instinctively curled himself into a ball, covering his head with his hands, releasing Elrohir's hand so that Elrohir could do the same.

They finally stopped at the bottom. They were both unhurt and scrambled to their feet, dusty and shaken. 'You could have gotten us killed, Elladan!' Elrohir hissed at his brother, rubbing a sore knee. 'Why did you do such a thing?'

'Because of that,' Elladan said, pointing to a ways down the path.

Now the sun glinted off not just snow but also spears and armour. 'We were just in time,' Elladan said smugly. 'Hurry up before they see us down here.'

He led the way towards the hill the rockslide had created. Glancing back at the mounted Elves, Elladan and Elrohir saw that they were already turning their horses to take a detour around the blocked area of the path.

'Well, at least they will not see us now,' Elrohir said in an almost downcast voice.

It took longer than they expected to get to the other side of the blockade. By the time they did, their hands were torn and bleeding from all the times they had slipped and had had to claw at rocks and the rough-barked trees to keep their balances.

Now, though they were at the other side of the barrier, they had to climb back to the path, which proved to be even more difficult that getting where they were now had been.

The rubble was treacherously slippery, causing them to take no more than a few steps before sliding back. They finally discovered that if they took several hurried steps, flung themselves to the ground, and stayed prone for a moment while the rubble stopped shifting around them, and then slowly moved to a standing position, they managed well enough.

Even so, it took them nearly two hours to reach the path again, and they worried that Glorfindel had gotten ahead of them.

When Elladan voiced this concern to his brother, Elrohir was slow to answer. 'Glorfindel may come turn out to be invaluable in this, Elladan. How are we supposed to get Naneth home alive with no horses – and now this?' gesturing to the mountain of rocks blocking the path.

'He sent us home,' Elladan said, though he knew Elrohir was correct.

'We shall simply have to say that we sent ourselves here again,' Elrohir quipped, despite the serious moment.

Elladan could not resist the urge to chuckle. 'We should go; we have wasted much time tying to get back onto the path and now here we are, talking.'

They set off at a quick jog. It was an hour past noon now and they had about four hours before dark. They had lost precious time trying to climb the steep incline and now they risked waiting for the new day to find Celebrian or trying to find her in the dark.

They, after some discussion, decided if they did not find tracks before the sun went down, they would wait for the next day. They had not slept well for many days now, and they would have to be alert for the fight.

Indeed they had found nothing important when the sun disappeared behind the hills. They found a sheltered area of the mountain and settled down, keeping each other warm.

The next morning they rose, refreshed and filled with anxiety mixed with anger and hatred for the foul creatures which had had hold of their mother for so long.

They ran over the snow-covered path in silence, not speaking, paying attention only to the path in front of them, and watching for stray guards.

Suddenly, with no warning, Elrohir grabbed Elladan's arm and pulled him down over the side of the path. Luckily, this time they were rolling on merely snow, not rocks as well, and nothing was alerted to their presence.

'Yrch – over the opening of the cave. He would have seen us if we had turned the corner,' hissed Elrohir in his brother's ear.

Elladan looked up: sure enough, three Orcs were patrolling a cave, strutting back and forth, scimitars drawn, darting their beady little eyes back and forth.

Elladan and Elrohir were quite safe where they were, they had come to a turn in the path when Elrohir saw one Orc. They could not be seen unless the Orcs came down to the path.

'How do we get at them, then? We cannot let them see us, otherwise they will alert those in the cave to our presence.'

'Naneth is in there! Let us just do it the easiest way. Get to the top of this hill as quietly as we can and shoot them from there.' Elrohir was growing impatient as he stared at the cave where they were sure Celebrian would be.

Elladan was not sure about this plan. He did not want to gamble. If something went wrong, it could mean that the Orcs would escape with their mother, or kill her and run. He did not risk such a thing.

'They are half-witted, Elladan, they will not know what hits them,' convinced Elrohir.

'Alright, just stop talking,' finally snapped Elladan in a whisper.

They stealthily climbed to the path again, staying just low enough to be sure that the Orcs would not see them.

They did have a slight problem, though: two Elves for three Orcs. One twin would have to kill the remaining Orc immediately after the two others fell, for it would sound the alarm.

Finally, though, the arrows were nocked to the bows and knives and swords were loosened in their sheaths. _'Now!'_ muttered Elladan and the two arrows were released into the air, and the sun hit something shiny hurtling through the air a moment after. There came a satisfying thud and Elladan and Elrohir saw their arrows had struck home in the Orcs' throats, killing them instantly and silently. The knife, thrown by Elladan, had landed between the third Orc's eyes, also killing him immediately.

They waited a moment to make sure there were no other Orcs that they had not noticed, hiding behind the hill or the trees.

When all was quiet, they dashed across the path and entered the cave, drawing their swords as they did so.

There was the unmistakable smell of Orcs and Elladan could not help but wrinkle his nose at it. Elrohir did not seem to be bothered by it, not that he let on.

'Come on,' he cried to Elladan in a low voice, remembering the echo that would repeat his words.

All went well until they came to a branch in the cave. It branched off into three different passages, and none of them showed any sign of being the right one.

The twins knew that it would be foolhardy to separate: one of them could hardly fight the Orcs that had captured their mother, along with the company that had passed them days before. But two of them could surely not last long, either, Elrohir thought wryly. _If only Glorfindel came now_ , he thought wistfully.

As they stood thinking, hoarse shouts came from down the left-hand passageway. Elladan and Elrohir hurriedly hid themselves in the middle one and waited.

Soon enough, Orcs came screaming through the passage, running past the Elves and down the right-hand passage. From down the left passage, there came a great sound of falling rock and rubble.

Elladan and Elrohir lost no time in making their way down the right passage, following their mother's captors. They came to a main chamber and stopped. In the dim light, they saw their mother, chained to the wall with a ring around her neck, as well as her ankles and wrists.

Her eyes were closed in torment, her dress hung on her in rags and her hair was matted with dirt and blood. And it was cut. It fell unevenly around her shoulders, some reaching past, some not even that long anymore. Elladan and Elrohir had loved playing with the silver tresses as children, weaving ribbons and flowers into it as she sat sewing or reading. Now they could imagine the strands lying trampled on the floor, or perhaps tied to the leader's belt or even fasted to his hair thong, mixing the silver hairs in with his vile ones.

Elladan caught his breath, trying to contain his anger at these creatures, who had reduced their radiant mother to this pale, lifeless person hanging from the wall.

Suddenly, as though sensing her sons' presence, Celebrian forced her eyes open and looked towards the mouth of the passage where her twins were hiding in the shadows. Too weak to make a sound, she rolled her head in distress and mouthed, 'No.'

The Orcs happened to notice this, for she continued moving her lips. They followed her gaze, but they did not observe the Elves, for they did not have Celebrían's vision. 'Something's out there,' the leader finally said when Celebrian, not noticing she had caught her captors' attention, continued mouthing words. 'Go get it.'

Before the Orcs could move, Elladan had stepped out, an arrow put to the string of his bow. 'Yes, we are here, you filth! Now come and fight us!'

The Orcs did not see Elrohir immediately; when they looked again, they saw that he also had nocked an arrow, ready to use it on the first Orc that threatened his mother or brother's lives.

The Orcs, while not intelligent, were not cowards. After hesitating only a moment from curiosity and surprise, they leapt at the two Elves, screaming. The twins' arrows had kept the Orcs at bay, but at length they ran out of arrows. Swiftly they drew their swords and continued fighting.

But there were many Orcs and they had the advantage. Before long, Elladan and Elrohir were tiring, their movements slowing. Despite this, when there remained only a couple dozen Orcs left alive in the chamber, both sides were halted abruptly by one of the larger Orcs: he had crawled unnoticed up to Celebrían's side and was now holding a knife to her throat.

'Drop yer weapons, or the she-Elf will die,' he hissed from between blood-covered teeth.

Elladan and Elrohir stopped in shock when they realised what the Orc was doing, but neither dropped his sword. 'I will drink her blood,' the Orc continued, shifting the knife to Celebrían's arm and shoving it in.

As their mother screamed in agony, the Orc withdrew his blade and ran his filthy tongue up and down the length of it. All the while, he kept a wary eye on the twins, ready for any move. 'Are you going to force me to bleed yer pretty mother, or will you put down yer nasty swords?'

Elladan and Elrohir did not let their eyes leave their mother and the Orc. The Orcs around them closed in on them and began jeering. Metal rang on stone as Elrohir dropped his blade, which was soon followed by Elladan's.

The Orcs, however, seemed to fear touching the Elven weapons, and instead the Elves were gestured over to the wall. 'Stand there and do not move,' the leader instructed. 'Move one of them there,' gesturing to the other side of the room. 'We do not want them to try anything, do we now? They just want to watch their mother!' With that, he drove the knife into Celebrían's arm again.

The pain was too much for Celebrían's severely weakened body and she sagged in her fetters, consciousness about to leave her.

'She will choke to death!' cried Elrohir frantically. 'The metal around her neck will block her airway!'

The Orcs guarding him did nothing but jeer and gurgle at his concern.

Elladan, from across the room, glared at Elrohir in worry and frustration as much as anything else. 'Be quiet, Rohir, they are looking for that reaction,' he said in Elvish. 'They will make sure Naneth will not die.' This last sentence was said calmly, but Elrohir could see that it took all of Elladan's willpower not to grind it out in his anger.

The Orc continued to torment Elladan and Elrohir by making small cuts on their mother's body, and at last they could bear it no longer.

Drawing hidden knives from their tunics, they rushed to the center or the room, standing back to back as they faced their unpleasant companions.

The Orcs, though, seemed to have expected such a movement some time, and moved so that most of them were standing in front of Elladan, leaving only four in front of Elrohir.

Both of the Elves were confused and did not move, fearing some sort of trap. The Orcs slowly stalked closer to Elladan, keeping just out of range of his knives. While Elladan was concentrated on keeping himself clear of the Orcs, the four in front of Elrohir were doing the same to Elrohir. When none of them could find an opening though, the smallest got impatient and, nocking a thick-shafted arrow, shot it towards Elrohir.

Elrohir's attention had left the small Orc for a second, but it was drawn back by the whistle of the arrow as it left the bowstring. The arrow was coming straight at him; there was no time to duck, and he had no shield. Besides, if he ducked, it would hit Elladan. At the last moment, Elrohir swung his body around, shoving Elladan to the right, causing both to fall to the ground with the force of the movement. The arrow fell harmlessly to the rock floor.

However, the Orcs attacking Elladan had not seen the Orc shoot at Elrohir, and, at the sudden movement Elrohir had made, another one had also shot.

Elladan felt a blinding pain in his left shoulder, though he did not know what had caused it. He supposed he had fallen in such away to injure his arm. _Ah well, what does it matter now?_ he morosely thought. _Surely we are going to die here._

As he and his brother waited to be yanked up by thick, muscled arms, they noted that the Orcs were still screaming, but not in anger or surprise only, also in fear. Then they were being dragged towards the wall again by a foul-smelling Orc. Elladan struggled, all of a sudden feeling terribly weak; he felt for his bond with Elrohir but there was nothing. Something solid struck his head, and he knew no more.

Suddenly most of the Orcs were gone, down one of the passageways. The remaining three fell dead a moment later, gurgling away their dying breaths, further impaling themselves on their own swords.

Elladan seemed to hear shouting from a great distance, but he paid no attention to it at first. Then he realised that it was not the harsh rasping of Orc voices, but the melodious sound of Elves.

Slowly he forced his eyes open. He found himself lying beside Elrohir in the same room where they had fought the Orcs. He supposed the Orc-bodies had been taken away to be destroyed, for they were no longer in sight. But in the dim torchlight, he saw Glorfindel's golden hair as he wove through the crowd of Elves.

Suddenly an Elf noticed him looking around. 'Elladan is awake, my lord,' he announced in a quiet voice to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel hurriedly made his way over to Elladan and his brother. As Glorfindel knelt down beside Elladan, he tried to sit up, but found himself restrained by Glorfindel's hand on his shoulder.

'Stay still; you have taken a slight arrow wound to the side,' Glorfindel said in explanation. 'It is not serious.'

Elladan refrained from rolling his eyes in frustration. He shifted his hands on the stone floor to find a more comfortable position, and his right hand landed in something wet and sticky: blood. Was it his or Elrohir's?

'What happened to Elrohir?' he asked suddenly as he noticed his pale twin lying beside him, still unconscious.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes, as though puzzled. 'I do not know,' he answered truthfully. 'He does not seem to be injured, not physically, at any rate,' he continued. 'I think he is merely fatigued and overcome by anxiety. It is a state you shall soon be in if you do not rest.'

'Overcome by anxiety...' Elladan paused as though collecting his thoughts and remembering things. 'Where is Naneth?' he suddenly asked. 'Is she alright?'

'Your mother is as well as can be expected. We have had to start the journey with her already. The three of you could not be kept together. You could not be moved and Celebrian could not stay.'

Elladan tried to keep tears from his eyes. He had found his mother only to lose her again. The whole reason they had set out, in disobedience, was to rescue her and stay with her till she returned to their father, and now, before being able to speak with her, she was gone again.

No matter how hard he tried, the tears slipped out from beneath his eyelashes, now squeezed together tightly in a vain attempt to withhold them.

 **A/N:** Hope you enjoyed it; please read and review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

A moan from his side brought him back to the present, and he found Glorfindel had moved to sit beside Elrohir, who appeared to be trying to come back to full consciousness.

'Elrohir?' Elladan's voice was soft as he pushed other matters from his mind. 'Are you in pain?'

'My arm, Elladan,' murmured Elrohir as his brother's worried inquiry registered in his foggy mind.

'Which arm?' Glorfindel broke in before Elladan could open his mouth.

Elrohir hesitated before replying. 'My right,' he finally conceded. 'In the same place it has for the last several weeks.'

Glorfindel rolled up Elrohir's tunic's sleeve, but found nothing unusual besides a slight redness a few inches above the elbow.

'You must have bruised it when you fell,' Elladan decided. 'Why did you push me?' he asked, remembering that he had not understood what was happening when he had felt Elrohir's body shoving him aside.

'The Orc–' Elrohir began.

'Hush,' Glorfindel remonstrated. 'Not now. You look like you are going to lose consciousness again, Elrohir. You must say nothing more till you have rested.'

Elladan did roll his eyes now. Trust Glorfindel to interrupt anything that sounded interesting with some sort of reason, not always a very good one.

'Yes Glorfindel,' Elrohir said meekly, and his lips curved into a half-smile when he saw Glorfindel glare at him in mock anger when he spoke again.

Elrohir settled down as comfortably as he could on the cold stone floor, but he found it difficult to do anything other than fret about his mother.

Elladan appeared to be having the same difficulties, being unable to rise and seeming to find it impossible to stem the flow of muttered words coming from his mouth.

Before long though, Elladan's eyelids began to feel heavy and he slowly fell into a dreamless sleep. When he woke, the Elves were gathered in a circle and were eating provisions from their packs and did not notice that he had come back to consciousness.

Elrohir moaned in his sleep, and Elladan immediately turned all his attention to his brother. The noise also brought Glorfindel who was looking over a map in one of the corners of the chamber.

Though he again inspected Elrohir's arm, Glorfindel could find no injury, nor in any other place. Elrohir appeared to be suffering from mental stress, not from a physical problem, though that hardly explained the pain in his arm.

'We need to get him to Adar,' Elladan pleaded in a low voice. 'My side does not pain me. Truly, it does not,' he added on when he saw Glorfindel's raised brows. 'Elrohir needs to be in Imladris almost as much as Naneth. I am sure that this air is not helping him.' Elladan wrinkled his nose at the foul smell the Orcs had left behind.

When the Elves had seen that they would not be able to leave for a couple days at least, they had carried the Orc carcasses out of the cave and had tossed them over the edge of a ravine nearby, so the smell of rotting flesh would not trouble them. But the smell had lingered anyways and the Elves could not rid themselves of it.

'And I suppose you propose to bear him in front of you the whole way back,' Glorfindel inquired wryly.

'Well... I can,' Elladan said after a moment's hesitation. 'I am hardly injured.'

'The more you say that, the less convinced of its truth I become,' Glorfindel responded, beginning to feel exasperated. 'Elladan Elrondion, you know very well that if you try carrying your brother on your horse, you shall strain your _healing_ wound and then I shall return home to your father with his two injured sons before me. He shall surely strip me of my position.'

'He would never do that,' Elladan replied defensively. 'I want to go home now.' Realising he must sound like a ten-year-old Elfling, he blushed. 'We need to go home.'

Glorfindel sighed. 'If you two seem well enough in the morning, we shall leave then, no sooner.' He saw Elladan open his mouth, whether to protest or agree he could not tell. 'And that is final.'

Elladan's mouth closed and he lay back down beside Elrohir. Glorfindel tried to keep a smile from his lips but he could not manage. Though Elladan and Elrohir were both adults now, they still often acted like children.

He could not resist one further comment. 'You were not so eager to return with Hérion. I am touched that you desired to stay with me.'

Evading Elladan's flailing foot, he laughed lightly and returned to the circle of Elves.

Elladan turned onto his side, tightening his lips into a thin line when he felt the dull throb of his wound as he shifted, so he could face Elrohir. He jumped when something fell in between them and he gingerly picked it up.

'Eat it all,' ordered Glorfindel from where he stood, demolishing the other half of the loaf of bread he had torn in half for Elladan and himself to share. 'If you do not, I shall know that you are not well enough to make the journey.'

Elladan was not particularly hungry, but he decided against mentioning that to Glorfindel. He took a bite and slowly chewed it, not tasting the delicious Elvish ingredients in it. All the time, he watched Elrohir's face, taking in the pale eyelids closed in sleep – that should not be, for Elves slept with their eyes open unless they were grievously ill or injured.

His side was hardly injured: the arrow had merely grazed it, and the arrowhead had not been poisoned, Glorfindel had told him. It was already nearly healed, as Elves recuperated from injuries swiftly.

Nearly an hour later, Elrohir woke again. He felt slightly better, though his arm still throbbed painfully. He accepted Glorfindel's offer of a numbing ointment and was relieved when he could no longer feel his arm.

Elladan waited until Glorfindel was out of hearing-distance before hissing, 'So?'

Elrohir looked up in confusion. 'So what?'

'Why did you push me? Quick, before Glorfindel gets back!' Elladan glanced furtively around for the Captain, but he was still rummaging around in a pack at the other end of the chamber, searching for something.

'Oh, that. An Orc was aiming an arrow at me, and I did not have time to move and I could not very well duck, otherwise it would hit you. So just in time, I shoved up against you and knocked you over to the side, falling down with you. Are you alright?'

'I think the Orcs watching me were startled by the sudden move and one of them shot at us. It grazed my side. But I am fine, whatever Glorfindel may say in denial of that statement.'

'I might say a lot about that,' Glorfindel spoke up calmly from where he was still going through the pack, causing Elladan and Elrohir to jump.

'Glorfindel... you were not supposed to hear that.' Elladan again knew he sounded like a child and again he felt his face go hot. Why could he still not guard his tongue?

Elrohir and Glorfindel laughed. 'But I did. I am not so old that my ears are failing me. I could hear every word clearly.' Glorfindel's voice took on a mock-scolding tone. 'Including, 'Quick, before Glorfindel gets back.'

Elrohir was laughing outright now and Elladan found it was contagious. He felt himself start to shake as he struggled to contain his laughter but failed miserably. Their fatigue helped, and before long, the twins were lying helpless on the floor, laughing. All thoughts of their mother had left their minds for the moment.

This was what Glorfindel had wanted: he did not want the twins to grow moody and morose, for they would grow unbearable on the ride back to Imladris. Neither twin noticed when Glorfindel slipped out of the chamber.

But all too soon, the twins calmed down and were quiet again, identical troubled looks creasing their foreheads. Before long, Elrohir's eyes were glazed over in Elven sleep. Elladan sat up, only to be forced down again firmly by a passing Elf. 'Stop it,' he snapped. 'I want to go to Glorfindel for a moment.'

Glorfindel had left not long before to stand at the mouth of the cave – to think, he had said in explanation.

'The Captain said in the strictest words to keep you and your brother here, Lord Elladan,' the Elf responded calmly.

'I am your overlord. What if I order you to let me go?' Elladan knew this was a useless argument.

'Glorfindel is the Captain. You chose to stay with us instead of going with Hérion, and now you shall obey him as I do. And if I am to obey him, I must keep you here.' The guard would not be swayed by threats or the scowls and glares Elladan bestowed on him. Elladan had learned many useful tactics from his father, but not even the greatest – the scowling and glaring – seemed to help here.

A quarter of an hour passed and Glorfindel did not return. Elladan began to get impatient. Elrohir was asleep and he was too annoyed at the Elves to speak to them, so he decided to sneak out to Glorfindel as soon as he could.

Around him, the Elves were either making plans for the return journey or cleaning their weapons. Elladan decided that the best way to get out without being noticed was to walk around the chamber several times and then casually walk down the passageway.

Standing up with a sigh of long suffering, he began to stalk around the room, eyes on the floor, completely ignoring the Elves. He went around the room three, four times, and then deemed it was safe.

Without changing his pace or gait at all, he moved down the passageway towards the mouth of the cave. Already he could feel the change of air: the dank, musty smell of the cave compared to the clean, sharp scent of the mountain air was quite a contrast.

Glorfindel was standing just outside the cave, arms crossed over his chest. He turned when Elladan came to a stop beside him. 'Why are you out here? Did I not order you to stay in the cave?'

Elladan looked at him innocently. 'No, you said nothing of the matter to me,' he answered. 'Besides, I wanted to talk to someone.'

'What of Elrohir and the Elves?' Glorfindel's voice was sceptical.

'Elrohir is asleep and the Elves would not allow me out so I had to sneak out here,' Elladan replied bluntly. 'But I do not mind. It was amusing, walking easily out of the cave with all the others sitting ten or twelve feet away and not noticing a thing. I expect they still have not noticed my absence.'

But Elladan spoke too soon. Even as he finished his sentence, he turned around at the sound of a footstep. There was Glorfindel's second-in-command, looking apologetically at Glorfindel and accusingly at Elladan. 'Forgive me, Captain,' he said. 'I shall escort him back inside, if you so desire.'

Ignoring Elladan's glare, the Elf continued to look at Glorfindel, who glanced from Elladan to the Elf, as though he was having trouble deciding. 'Nay, he can stay here,' he finally answered. 'He shall come to no harm.'

The Elf bowed and turned back towards the cave.

After he had disappeared, Glorfindel turned to Elladan. 'Now what was it you wanted to speak of?'

Elladan picked up a rock from the rocky ground. It as a beautiful red on the outside, but changed between brown and a cloudy white shade on the inside. After inspecting his find for a moment, Elladan slipped it into the picket of his tunic and turned to Glorfindel. 'Will Naneth and Elrohir be alright?'

Glorfindel thought for a moment. 'I can say nothing about your mother, Elladan. I do not know how serious her condition is, nor how she has been taken care of so far. But your brother, I believe, is merely suffering from extreme fatigue and worry. He may have injured his arm somehow when he fell. I cannot tell you more.'

Elladan said nothing immediately. Instead he walked out onto the path to pick up a second rock he spotted, lying in the shelter of a boulder on the side of the path. This one was similar to the one he had found and he put this one into his pocket as well, for Elrohir.

Snow was beginning to drift down and a breeze grew steadily stronger. Elladan retreated to the shelter of the cave, again beside Glorfindel. 'I mean, how was she when she left us?'

Again Glorfindel hesitated to answer. Elladan was standing staring straight in front of him at the mountains stretching onwards, as far as the eye could see. He would not turn to meet Glorfindel's gaze.

'How was she?' he insisted. 'Why will you not tell me?'

Glorfindel moved to stand behind the younger Elf, putting his arms over Elladan's shoulders and clasping his hands together in front of Elladan. Pulling the Elf to lean against his chest, he continued, 'Your mother was in a critical condition. The mountain air injured her lungs; she had great difficulty breathing. She has numerous wounds on her body, but none that your father should not be able to treat. There is a good chance that when we leave tomorrow, we shall catch up to them, for they cannot go overly fast with her. I think you shall see her sooner than you expect.'

Elladan sighed, his eyes tracing the design of the golden flowers embroidered on Glorfindel's tunic sleeves. He had had little hope when Glorfindel told him of Celebrían's difficult breathing, but some of it had returned when he was assured that Elrond would be able to heal most of Celebrían's injuries.

 _You must return to Imladris alive, Naneth_ , he said in his mind. _You must not leave us now that we have freed you from them!_

'Can we not leave earlier than tomorrow?' he pleaded.

'You know what your brother's condition is, penneth,' Glorfindel said mildly. 'He is so weak I expect he could hardly hold his mount's reins.'

And Elf appeared beside them. To Elladan, he said, 'Your brother has woken, my lord, and requests your presence.'

Elladan freed himself of Glorfindel's embrace and inclined his head to the Captain. 'Thank you, Glorfindel,' he said simply and left to return to his brother.

Elrohir was sitting up, interestedly observing his arm. Though it was still red, he could not feel the pain anymore. He looked up when Elladan came and sat down beside him.

'How do you feel?' Elladan immediately asked.

'I might ask the same of you,' Elrohir replied, with slight humour. 'You are the one who was injured, after all.'

'You are the reason now that we are stuck here,' Elladan replied playfully. 'Glorfindel says that you are probably not strong enough to ride back yet.'

'I am not too weak! I felt terrible while lying down, so I made the Elf watching me let me sit up and I feel much better. I wonder where he went?'

'Maybe you will be fine, then. I wonder... should you stand up?' Elladan looked around for anyone who might be watching them.

But before Elrohir could answer, a voice broke in from behind them. 'No, you should not,' said the Elf who had allowed Elrohir to sit up. 'You will undoubtedly fall and then Glorfindel shall make us stay in this foul hole for longer.'

'It was hardly our fault that we are here in the first place!' retorted Elladan, and Elrohir nodded his agreement vigorously.

'If I had not acted as I did, then you and Glorfindel would have the unpleasant task of informing Adar of one or both of our deaths,' Elrohir said, no longer joking.

'I may still have to do so,' the Elf said darkly. 'Especially if you two insist on disobeying orders' – here he looked at Elladan, 'and bribing those around you to let you do things you are not yet healed enough to do.' Here he looked at Elrohir, who lifted an eyebrow.

'Bribed you? You wound me!' Elrohir looked to Elladan for back-up. 'How did I bribe you?'

'You know very well how, Elrondion,' the Elf replied, not bothering to give the details to Elladan, knowing that Elrohir would as soon as his back was turned.

Then Glorfindel was standing over them and the Elf left to make more arrows before the morning. Glorfindel glanced at Elrohir's arm but when he was assured in no few words that it was causing no pain, he instead gave Elrohir the same report on the twins' mother that he had given to Elladan when Elrohir asked.

'I am well enough to ride,' he promised Glorfindel. 'We cannot stay here until morning. Naneth may need us!'

'I know you two are both anxious to be rid of this place; trust me, I am as well,' Glorfindel responded to the expected pleas from the twins. 'But I shall not leave before Elrohir is able.'

'I _am_ able!' Elrohir's voice rose in pitch. 'I told you, my arm does not even hurt anymore! It is simply bruised.'

'I have made up my mind. Tomorrow morning, if you show that you are well enough, you may ride for a while.' Glorfindel's voice grew stern with warning, and though Elrohir knew it was not wise, he decided to press him further.

''For a while?' What does that mean?' Elrohir asked suspiciously.

'It means, Elrohir, that you shall ride with another if you do not seem fit enough to handle your own horse.'

'I do not have a horse anymore,' Elrohir muttered rebelliously. In his heart, though, the reminder of Beleg was a painful one.

'You do not? What happened to Beleg?' Glorfindel's voice betrayed his surprise. Elrohir would never willingly put an animal in danger, unless it was threatening the well-being of his companions.

'Never mind,' Elrohir responded, still stung by Glorfindel's comments about his health.

Glorfindel sighed heavily, Elrohir in a bad mood could be very trying. He looked towards where Elladan was sitting, fiddling with a worn tie on his boot. 'Is Beledhel alright?'

'Yes. Beleg slipped off the edge of the Ridge,' Elladan supplied the information.

'Elladan!' Elrohir snapped impatiently. 'I chose not to tell him.'

'Ro, I think you had better lie down again. If you are going to be in a foul mood when we leave, then Glorfindel will be too, and he will make you ride with someone else.' Elladan knew that Elrohir would get annoyed at him as well, but hopefully if Elrohir had a rest, then he would wake up in a better mood.

'I should _not_ lie down, and I will _not_ ride with anyone else. No one can make me,' Elrohir finished with a sidelong glance at Glorfindel, who fought to keep a smile from his face. The twins never failed to amuse him (to some extent) when they acted like this, especially now that they were no longer Elflings.

'You may be surprised at what I can make you do,' Glorfindel said as he stood up. 'Now lie down and rest.' With that, Glorfindel strode off, knowing that Elrohir was looking after him furiously. He smiled a moment later when he heard Elladan say, 'Come on, Ro, let's both do it.'

When he next looked, both were lying flat, staring up at the grey roof above them with bored, anxious grey eyes. Elrohir's right hand and Elladan's left one lay clasped together between them.

No one but Elrond, since he had been a twin, really understood their twin-bond, and even he and Elros had not been so close that they could feel each other's pain. Elladan and Elrohir could say more in one quick glance than they could in many words, and they could also know what the other was thinking without having the other tell them verbally.

In some ways this was a blessing, in others a curse. They could tell when the other was in danger or pain and this was, like the bond itself, both helpful and unhelpful. It also allowed them to convey mischievous thoughts – such as a good idea for the next prank on Erestor – without a chance of being overheard.

But most of all, it was something special shared only between the closest of twins and so was almost unheard of in Middle-earth, there being only very few Elflings in each Elven land, and usually only one or two pairs of twins per kingdom.

As Elladan and Elrohir slept, Glorfindel and the warriors prepared for the long, difficult journey back through the mountains. They were inwardly thankful that they did not have both the twins and Celebrian along.

Meanwhile, the snow that had been falling gently while Glorfindel and Elladan spoke had turned into a storm, falling thickly and heavily, and everyone was quiet as they thought of the Lady of Imladris and her escort: had the storm reached them or were they still ahead of it?

The wind howled eerily, causing the Elves to move uneasily, as though they expected to meet some unpleasant foe at any time.

It was now nearly two and a half hours after noon, and the snowfall showed no sign of letting up. Glorfindel began to grow concerned. There was no way he could keep Elladan and Elrohir here another whole day.

The twins slept for nearly an hour, when Elrohir woke. He was indeed in a better mood than he had been when he fell asleep, but was still annoyed at Glorfindel for suggesting that he – a full-grown Elf – might not be strong enough to ride by himself for the whole way.

His arm, though he did not speak of it to Glorfindel, was not quite as comfortable as before. It throbbed slightly again, and it was red and hot to the touch.

Glorfindel frowned when he felt it but at Elrohir's pleas, he gave in and said that Elrohir could ride a horse as long as he told Glorfindel or Elladan immediately if it got worse. Elrohir promised readily, praying that he would not have to put up with the indignity of riding in front of his brother – or worse, someone else!

Not long after that, Elladan awoke. They sat together, bored, for Glorfindel would allow Elrohir to hold nothing of much weight. Elladan remembered the stones he had in his pocket and pulled them out to show his brother. 'You can have one, if you would like,' he offered. 'Take whichever.'

Elrohir excepted one and moved his fingers over the smooth inside and rougher outer part. 'It is beautiful,' he said admiringly. 'Where did you find it?'

'Outside on the path,' Elladan responded, happy that his twin was pleased with his find. 'I wonder what kind of rock it is.'

The rest of the day went slowly by, and evening came. The twins fell asleep early and slept until they were woken by Glorfindel. The other Elves were already gathering their belongings from the cave and loading them onto the horses.

Elrohir could again feel no pain in his arm, but it still felt uncomfortably warm to the touch. However, Elladan and Elrohir both called Glorfindel's promise of the day before to mind, and Glorfindel could do nothing but watch Elrohir mount his horse with almost all of his usual ease and frown.

The ride was uneventful. Elrohir continued to be able to ride by himself, and they met no unwelcome folk. They stopped at noon for a quick meal, then continued. Elladan and Elrohir, especially, were eager to catch up to their mother's escort so as to be able to see how she was doing.

They rode into the night until the dark made it difficult and dangerous to continue. They made camp and most of the Elves went straight to bed after a small meal of lembas and miruvor.

There were two guards set for each three-hour watch to make sure that they were not taken by surprise, but other than those six, everyone slept soundly, not waking until they were brought back to their senses by the smell of breakfast being cooked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V**

They travelled all that day and the next. When they set up camp at the end of the fourth day, they saw, far ahead of them, the twinkle of a neighbouring fire, and they knew that they were not far from Celebrian.

In some ways, this was a comfort to the anxious sons of Elrond,4 but in others, it was merely another worry. If Celebrian was so injured that they were only this far through the mountains, how soon would they manage to get her back to Imladris?

The next day, they caught up to the other party. Elladan and Elrohir instantly moved to their mother's side, and caught their breaths in horror. Their mother looked hardly better than she had when she was chained to the wall with the Orcs. Though she was covered with more than one blanket, her face still showed how unwell she really was. Her eyelids seemed so thin that if they were touched they would break. Her finely chiselled cheekbones stuck out of her pale, dirt-smudged face, and her shorn hair was limp and matted.

'How is she?' Elladan asked of the healer, who was hovering near.

'Not well, my lord. We must get her back to your father as soon as may be.' The healer offered no further information, and the twins decided not to press him further.

Elrohir seemed to have inherited their father's healing skills in greater quantity than had Elladan, and he was able to assess the seriousness of Celebrían's injuries enough to satisfy both Elladan and himself.

When they were alone, he told his brother what he had found. 'Other than what we already know, she is in shock, and she has a high fever. The healer is right: we must get her back to Adar as soon as possible.'

'How is your arm feeling, then?' Elladan asked, suddenly realising that his brother had spoken not one word to either Glorfindel or himself about his painful arm.

'I have barely felt it all day,' Elrohir said, his tone thankful. 'Except for once, when it felt as though it were on fire.'

'You promised Glorfindel to tell one of us if it troubled you.' Elladan's voice was sharper than he had meant it to be, and he immediately added on, 'You should have asked someone to do something for it.'

'It did not need anything, and if it did, I am quite capable of doing it myself.' Elrohir's snapped back.

'Only it is your right arm that is injured,' Elladan retorted sardonically. 'You know that your left arm is useless when you attempt to use it for such things.'

'It suffices in the greatest need,' Elrohir replied, beginning to feel extremely nettled at his brother.

'But it is not your greatest need. You have nearly every other person in this party to do it for you.' Elladan smiled grimly as he noticed that Elrohir was fishing for a response.

'Stop bickering, you two,' ordered Glorfindel from across the camp. 'What is it about this time?'

Elladan opened his mouth to interrupt, but Elrohir spoke first. In a hoarse whisper, he hissed, 'No! Elladan, do not tell him what happened. He shall refuse to let me ride tomorrow if you do.'

'I am not about to try lying to Glorfindel again. He always sees through us.' Elladan again turned to Glorfindel, who, sensing a conspiracy, had begun making his way towards the twins.

'Well, then do not say anything. It is my arm, it is for me to decide if I tell him how it feels.' Elrohir glared at Elladan, ignoring Glorfindel as he came up to stand before them.

Glorfindel, though, suspected what it was about. 'Let me see your arm, Elrohir. I insist,' he said, when he saw Elrohir was about to protest. He frowned at the redness of the irritated part. 'You did not hide anything from your brother or me today, did you?'

Elrohir's eyes flickered away from his for a moment before coming back, a determined light shining in them. 'It is for me to know,' he said aloofly.

'It is indeed,' Glorfindel said calmly. 'But you promised to tell me, so it is also for me to know.'

Still Elrohir offered no answer, and Glorfindel continued to stare at him, finally making Elrohir look down uncomfortably. 'Look at me!' Glorfindel commanded sternly, and Elrohir did so. 'Answer me right now, Elrohir Peredhil.'

'Glorfindel–' began Elladan, but he was interrupted immediately.

'Hush, Elladan, I want Elrohir to tell me himself.' As Glorfindel turned back to his stubborn twin, Elladan looked skyward, as though praying to Eru Ilúvatar.

'It hurt a little,' muttered Elrohir after a moment, when Glorfindel moved a couple inches closer to him, as though threatening him silently.

'A little? Are you sure?' Glorfindel pressed, knowing that Elrohir was not telling the whole truth when Elrohir dropped his eyes again.

'Yes! It hurt a little. That is all!' Elrohir stood abruptly and turned and walked swiftly away towards the bier holding his mother.

Glorfindel sighed as he watched the annoyed son of Elrond crouch down beside his mother. Turning to Elladan, he said finally, 'What did he tell you?'

Elladan, also glancing towards his brother, answered softly, 'He said it felt as though it were on fire. I do not know how I did not notice it, usually we feel each other's pain, unless we block it.'

'I suppose he did exactly that,' Glorfindel said wryly. 'He knew that his independent riding was at an end for the day if you found out. At any rate, he shall ride with you tomorrow, unless he would rather walk.'

'I almost think he will choose to do so instead of suffering the indignity that such an action would summon,' Elladan said, standing up. 'Even if he blocked his pain, though, would we not see it in his face?'

Glorfindel thought for a moment. 'You both seem to excel at looking innocent, after years of pranking unfortunate Elves, so I think it would be little trouble for him to look pain-free, too. I do believe that you were the two most troublesome Elves in Imladris as children.'

Elladan smiled as he rose. 'Well, I suppose we have not completely grown out of it,' he said as he began walking towards Elrohir and Celebrian.

Glorfindel went back to what he had been doing before he went to the twins: making the evening meal. As he continued peeling the potatoes, he thought over what had just been said. He had every intention of refusing to let Elrohir ride alone the next day, both because of his sour attitude and because of his failure to keep his promise. Of course, he knew that this would not improve Elrohir's temper, but at least it would show him that Glorfindel did not make idle commands or threats, and that he thoroughly expected to be obeyed when he was in charge.

Again he looked towards Celebrían's bier, and Elrohir, kneeling on one side of her, was scowling at Elladan, who was on the other. Perhaps Elladan had already told his brother that Glorfindel was going to forbid him to ride the next day, thus sparing him – Glorfindel – of the unpleasant task.

It appeared that Elladan had done just that, for not ten minutes later, Elrohir came storming over to Glorfindel, still getting the supper ready and said hotly, 'I have decided that I am going to walk with Naneth tomorrow. I will not need a horse.'

'So Elladan has spoken to you, then.' Glorfindel did not look up from his work, and this nettled Elrohir.

'Of what?' Elrohir said, sounding puzzled despite himself. 'Do you mean to forbid me from riding myself? I shall if I wish to.'

'No, you shall not. I supposed Elladan had told you of my decision. Because you did not keep your promise and tell one of us when your arm began to trouble you, I have decided that you shall not handle a horse tomorrow. It is well that you desire to walk instead, for otherwise you would be riding double.'

Elrohir was speechless. When he found his voice again, he said, 'You have no proof that my arm did hurt very badly today. You know I almost always keep my promises.'

''Almost always' is correct: this happened to be one of the few times that you did not, and you know it well. Now, if you please, we can continue this argument later. There is one thing I wish to make very clear, though: I am the leader and as such, I shall be obeyed, by you, Elladan, and every other Elf here. Is that understood?' Glorfindel's words were softly spoken, but the staccato anger and impatience behind them was unmistakeable. 'For now, I am tired of your childish behaviour. If you are going to continue this way, then I shall order you to retire at a time that matches your behaviour, whether it be eight hours past noon or seven. Now go and do not pester another with your unpleasant remarks.'

As a child, Elrohir had responded better to gentleness than to severity, and his family still got better results when they were patient, though the twins were now adults. Glorfindel knew this, but Elrohir's unusual stubborn phase had gotten on his nerves and he had grown impatient.

After Glorfindel's last stinging remark, Elrohir turned away, trying to keep tears from his eyes. Seeing no other place where he would be left alone, he went towards the horses. Finding the one he had ridden that day, he fed it an apple he had grabbed from by Glorfindel.

'Ah, Urúvion,' he murmured. 'I do not know what I am doing anymore. I cannot hold my tongue; I am becoming like my brother. Before this, he was the one always being scolded by Glorfindel and Adar for being disrespectful or thoughtless.'

When the evening meal was prepared, Elrohir was not hungry. He remained with the horses, grooming one after the other.

'Elrohir, come and eat!' pressed Elladan and Glorfindel, but to no avail.

Elrohir replied stiffly, without turning from what he was doing, 'I am not hungry. I shall come when I wish to.'

Right now, he much preferred the company of the horses to that of the Elves, all of whom seemed to be looking accusingly at him. Even Elladan had barely spoken to him since he stormed away from him when they were at the bier together.

The sun went down and still Elrohir did not leave the horses. In Imladris, whenever he was in someone's bad graces, or simply wanted to be free of everyone else, he went to the stable to be with the horses. Elladan did not understand him in this respect – how could he possibly muck out the stalls and groom horses when he did not have to? Knowing how much Elladan hated the job, this had always been a favourite punishment of Elladan's parents, and he had been set to stable-work all too many times in his childhood and teenage years.

Glorfindel finally took pity on the lonely Elf and took a plate of the leftover meal over to him. Elrohir ignored him until Glorfindel spoke. 'Elrohir, here is your supper. I insist you eat,' he said firmly. 'How do you expect to walk all day if you do not eat tonight?'

Elrohir did not show any sign of having heard the Elf, except for a slight faltering in his movements, causing the horse he was currycombing to look up and nicker.

'I... I also came to apologise for what I said earlier. I was tired from the ride and impatient with your stubborn behaviour. I did not mean it. I hope you will forgive me.' Glorfindel sighed inwardly as Elrohir continued his rhythmic movements. He was about to say something else when Elrohir stopped and turned to him.

'It was not your fault, Glorfindel. I purposefully broke my promise to you and did not speak when my arm began to hurt. I also was tired when we got here, and I snapped at both you and Elladan. And now, because of my foolish disrespect, here I am, with every Elf in the camp annoyed at me, except perhaps Naneth, who does not even know I am with her.'

Glorfindel's lips moved upwards in his often-seen smile and he placed a hand on the younger Elf's shoulder. 'Not quite every Elf, penneth,' he said. 'Elladan was fit to be tied during supper, he remained there only because I told him you would not welcome company.'

'I would welcome his, I suppose,' Elrohir replied slowly, looking towards where Elladan was polishing and sharpening his sword. 'I did not want to admit it until now, though. What is it with us, Glorfindel? One of us always seems to be in trouble.'

Glorfindel laughed, but refrained from answering. Gesturing to the plate of food he had set down on a rock out of range of the horses, he said, 'Come, you must eat. It shall be colder than ever if you wait much longer.'

Elrohir went to it and sighed. He had been speaking the truth when he said that he was not hungry, but since Glorfindel seemed to have no intention of leaving him till the plate was empty, he slowly ate it. Once he had finished, he looked up at Glorfindel pleadingly. 'Are you sure that I cannot ride Urúvion tomorrow?'

'I am sure. Besides, did you not say you wanted to walk with your mother?' Glorfindel could not help but grin when he saw Elrohir's face.

'I did. I shall walk if I cannot ride Urúvion. That way I can monitor her myself and not be bored at the same time.' Elrohir stood, picking up his plate. 'Do you want me to lick it, yet?'

Glorfindel smiled at the teasing. 'No, not with your mother here. I think she would not approve.'

At the mention of his mother, Elrohir glanced towards where Celebrian lay. Elladan was already there, running his hand gently over the uneven hair. 'I wonder if she has changed,' he murmured. Forgetting about Glorfindel, he ran towards his mother and brother.

Glorfindel watched him kneel down beside and Elladan and say something to him, then turn to their mother. He bent down to pick up the plate Elrohir had dropped and went back towards the fire.

To Elrohir's disappointment, Celebrian had not changed for the better: only for the worse. Her fever had grown worse; she was slightly delirious. Her breathing rasped. 'The mountain air is difficult on her lungs, since they are so weak,' Elrohir explained to Elladan. 'The sooner we get her back to Adar, the better.'

There was a moment of silence, in which both twins stared solemnly at their mother, willing her to open her eyes and recognise them. But nothing happened: Celebrian remained unconscious, moaning or giving a low cry every so often.

Then Elrohir glanced at his brother and said, 'Elladan?'

Elladan met his gaze and raised a brow. 'What?'

'I want to apologise for my unpleasantness before supper today. I was wrong not to keep my word and tell you or Glorfindel when my arm began to ache so badly. I must have made myself unbearable when I got angry at you for taking Glorfindel's side over mine when he looked at my arm.'

If Elrohir had not looked so very forlorn, Elladan would have been hard-pressed not to laugh. 'It was nothing, Ro. Do not worry about it. We have other things to occupy our minds. It is not your fault that you are – you were in a nasty mood. This would be enough to make the most patient person in Middle-earth into a living wasp nest.'

Elrohir let out a short laugh. 'But I am not the most patient person in Middle-earth, and that is a well-known fact.'

'But you are a good deal more patient than I am,' Elladan retorted. 'And that is a better-known fact than yours. I suppose you had reason to be in a sour mood, though. I know I would be if Glorfindel was threatening to make me ride like an Elfling. Is he still determined to have his way?'

Elrohir sighed. 'Yes. But I am going to walk. I will not hold anyone back, for I shall not be the only one walking.'

'I shall do likewise. I cannot wait to see Glorfindel's face!' With an eerily wicked grin of anticipation, Elladan turned half-way around to see Glorfindel who was watching the stars.

As though sensing that he was being watched, Glorfindel turned to Elladan and Elrohir and, seeing Elladan and Elrohir looking at him mischievously, immediately set up his guard. 'What do you two want?' he called across the camp.

'Nothing,,' Elladan called before Elrohir could open his mouth. 'We were just thinking.'

'That is what I was most afraid of,' Glorfindel said to no one in particular. He went back to watching the path of the stars across the sky.

Celebrian moaned in her sleep and instantly Elladan and Elrohir's attention was on nothing else. After easing her as much as possible, they sat back, both feeling anger rising from deep inside them at the Orcs.

'They will pay,' Elladan said after a time, his voice heavy and harsh with hatred. 'I am going to get revenge for every scratch they gave her, for every hair they removed from her head. And I shall never stop till I have full compensation.'

Elrohir glanced at his brother, inwardly agreeing. 'As will I. But I think Adar may have some choice things to say. He will not tolerate us doing this again for a long while.'

Glorfindel rolled his eyes when he heard of Elladan's decision to walk with Elrohir. 'You two are impossible to separate,' he moaned into his hands. 'When one is punished, the other is too.'

'It makes it infinitely more pleasant for the one being disciplined,' Elrohir said, sparing a grateful smile to his brother.

'I declare you are not the least bit repentant anymore,' Glorfindel retorted, taking in Elrohir's face, marred only by the obvious worry for his mother.

'I am though,' reassured Elrohir. 'I shall not do it again, I promise.'

'You promised last time as well, remember,' Glorfindel gently reminded the younger twin.

'Yes, but I shall keep it this time. Really, I will,' he added when he saw Glorfindel's questioning countenance. To escape further reminders of his last mistake, he said hurriedly, 'Come on, Ladan.' Elrohir grabbed Elladan's hand and tugged him off towards their bedrolls. Flopping down on them, they watched the stars till they drifted off to sleep, and neither woke till the morning sun was beginning to peek over the tips of the mountains.

After a hurried breakfast, the part set off once more, eager to get Lady Celebrian closer to her husband. Camp was quickly broken up and the horses were fed and saddled.

Walking all day through the mountains was little trouble for Elladan and Elrohir; they had done it before, and they knew that they would stop periodically to check on Celebrian.

Near noon it began to snow, but it merely increased the beauty of the day. The snowflakes were fat and perfectly formed, and they fell from light grey clouds in the blue sky. The sun was warm on the Elves' hair, but the twins noticed none of it. Instead, they saw how the Orcs had injured their mother in these very mountains, and how her condition was steadily declining.

The Elves rode for two weeks more. They met no Orcs, and for that they were thankful. They went through snowstorms, some of them minor, others more dangerous. Celebrian grew worse slowly but steadily, but they could not go much faster than they already were. During the snowstorms, Elladan or Glorfindel generally held Celebrian in front of her to ensure that she was kept warm, and so that they would not be slowed down by the Elves carrying her on the bier.

Elrohir's arm bothered him more and more often, to his chagrin, for Glorfindel would not let him ride the whole day when it did. He had, however, learned his lesson well: now, when it began to ache, he told Glorfindel or Elladan, deeming it better than having both of them angry at him.

At last, on the fifteenth day, they came to the base of the mountains, and Imladris' borders were in sight. That night, they camped just inside the borders, but sent no messenger to Elrond, for they had ridden hard and with only a break every four or five hours. After caring for their horses and eating a wafer of lembas, the Elves were practically asleep on their feet.

The next morning, Glorfindel sent his second-in-command on to Imladris, announcing their arrival to Lord Elrond. During the ride, Elladan and Elrohir were almost completely silent, nervous of the unavoidable meeting with their father.

Unbeknownst to them, Hérion had returned to an irate and concerned Lord Elrond. He had gone immediately – albeit slowly – to Elrond's study to report that he had begun the return journey with Elrond's sons but they had snuck away while Hérion and his companions were fighting off Orcs.

Elrond had been mortified at this; the thought of his sons deserting in the middle of a battle made his spine crawl. He had turned quite red, and had begun to sputter, making poor Hérion suppose that his Lord was terribly displeased with him.

'My Lord... forgive me. They were with us when the Orcs came but were gone when we slew the last one. We searched thoroughly but they appeared not to have been injured.'

'So help me, those two will not be able to look me in the eye for a month after I have finished with them,' muttered Elrond. 'Do not worry overmuch, Master Hérion. They excel at disappearing without being noticed. However, they shall find doing so difficult in the near future. They shall not be left alone until they have shown some sense.'

Hérion had bowed his head, trying to quench the tiny spark of pity he felt in his heart for the twins. He ought to be angry at them, but instead he felt sorry for them. They had made him make this report to their father with hardly anything to say. He did not know how or when they left, nor in what condition they were.

Elrohir forgot about his arm, he thought of nothing but how he was to explain himself. When Glorfindel asked him about it after a while, he had to wait for a moment before answering to find out how it really was.

'I have not noticed it for hours,' he finally said, glancing at the position of the sun. 'It does not hurt much.'

Glorfindel had allowed the Elf to remain riding instead of making him walk, more out of sympathy for the separate dilemmas he knew the twins were going through, than out of satisfaction with Elrohir's answer.

By the time the House of Elrond came into sight, it was nearing sunset. Despite their fluttering stomachs, Elladan and Elrohir rode behind Glorfindel eagerly, trusting that their father would be able to heal their mother, no matter how sorely she was wounded.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to LadyLindariel, who has so faithfully reviewed every chapter so far, and who I tortured for the last couple days over this chapter.**

 **Part VI**

The grief-wracked group moved towards the gates of the House of Elrond slowly, as though afraid that any sudden movement might sever the slender hold on life Lady Celebrian held.

Suddenly there came a loud cry from the porch: 'Celebrian!'

The gate crashed open and Lord Elrond came running through it towards the bier that bore his dying wife. 'My star,' cried Elrond, falling to his knees beside the stretcher.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and, looking up, he recognised the face of his first-born son staring down at him with stricken eyes. 'Adar, we must get her inside. Elrohir says the mountain air harmed her lungs.'

'We will take her in. I will see to her, after which I wish to speak to you two.' He looked ominously at his two sons, who had the grace to look nervously at the ground.

Elladan and Elrohir went ahead to prepare the family's private healing room. By the time Glorfindel, Hérion, and Elrond entered with the injured Lady, they had turned down the bed covers, sterilised the necessary instruments, and had fetched several bowls of water, along with cloths, soap, and sponges. A towel hung on the rack by the bed.

Glorfindel and Hérion, after seeing there was nothing Elrond needed that could not be taken care of by the twins, slipped out of the room.

Elrond, with Elladan's help, lifted his wife onto the bed, smoothing the dirt-caked hair out of her face once she was safely on the bed.

'Elrohir, boil me some water now.' When Elrohir made no move, just continued staring at his mother's lifeless face, Elrond snapped, 'At once!'

As Elrohir moved off to do as he had been bidden, Elladan walked about the room gathering more necessaries as quietly as he could manage to avoid riling his father more.

A few moments later, Elladan's twin returned, bearing a steaming bowl. Setting it down on the bedside table, he handed a cloth to Elrond. 'You can help. You know how,' Elrond said brusquely. 'Elladan, get some more water boiling, please,' he continued, seeing Elladan's fallen expression.

With the most tender of touches, Elrond and Elrohir moved around Celebrian, sponging her face, arms, and neck off and attempting to comb out her knotted hair. However, it seemed that the Orcs had purposely tied it as tightly as they could manage.

Elrond, who was on his wife's right side, had cleaned her lower arm and was now moving towards the upper half. Here, most of her sleeve was stuck to her arm, though it was torn and slashed at in various places.

No matter how much he tried, Elrond could not manage to remove the fabric without rousing Celebrian.

'Elrohir.'

Instantly Elrohir was at his father's side.

'Hold her arm still. I have to cut the sleeve off,' Elrond instructed.

Elrohir obeyed, gently holding his mother's arm down on the mattress.

Elrond, taking one of the sterilized knives from the bedside table, carefully cut a long slit on the shoulder seam. Working his way down, he noted that the fabric was hardly stuck to flesh anymore, and that he could pretty much pull it off now.

Giving the fabric a gently tug, Elrond jumped when Elrohir sucked in his breath sharply and let got of Celebrían's arm to grasp his own, about midway between his elbow and shoulder. His face was deathly pale, almost the same hue as Celebrían's.

'It burns, Adar, it burns,' gasped Elrohir. He collapsed onto the floor and knelt there, rocking back and forth on his knees, cradling his arm and trying desperately to catch his breath.

Elladan, sensing his brother's distress, hurried to the door of the room where he was heating water. Seeing his brother on the floor, his father kneeling beside him, Elladan ran from the room to join them.

'Ro, what is it? What happened?' Elladan was frantic.

Elrohir could hardly talk. 'My...arm. Something – something stabbed it.'

'Let me see it, Elrohir,' Elrond snapped, trying to pry Elrohir's hands away from his arm. 'Let me see!'

Elrohir finally removed his hand from his arm, only to instantly replace it to his mouth, trying to stifle a scream of agony. 'Naneth,' he moaned.

Elladan, on a sudden impulse, stood up, retrieving the knife Elrond had dropped in his haste to get to Elrohir. Placing it by the bowl of water to be sterilized again, he took a second knife. Gently, he finished cutting away the sleeve of Celebrían's dress and sponged off the arm. There, as he had expected, was a knife wound, about four inches in length, about halfway between her elbow and shoulder.

'No,' he breathed. 'Ro, let me see your arm.'

As he again saw his brother's arm, he noticed that the white scar-like line that had appeared on Elrohir's arm was in exactly the same place as was the cut on his mother's.

Elrohir's arm was red and blotchy, and it was swelling painfully. Tears were tracking their way down Elrohir's cheeks, though he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep them at bay. 'Make it stop, Adar, make it stop,' he cried between sobs.

Elladan spoke up softly. 'He feels Naneth's pain.'

Elrond looked up at once, freezing when he saw how correct Elladan was. He too saw that the marks were in the same place on both arms. He glanced down at Elrohir, who was again clutching at his arm.

'Elrohir, sîdth. Look at me,' Elrond ordered.

Elrohir tried to hold his father's intense gaze but after only a few seconds dropped his eyes.

Elrond moved forwards and put his hand under Elrohir's chin, gently raising it, forcing Elrohir to meet his eyes. 'Elrohir, we need your help. You must gather yourself together. 'Tis your mother's agony you feel. We cannot stop your pain 'til we stop hers. Come now.' Elrond stood up, then gave his hand to Elrohir, who stood shakily and gratefully accepted the side of the bed Elladan vacated at once, seeing his brother's dizziness.

Once seated, he wiped the tears from his face, almost angrily, and looked up at his parent. 'What do you want me to do, Adar?' he asked, his voice thick from tears.

'You are a healer, Elrohir. You can do much more than I can,' Elladan answered for Elrond. 'You will know better what needs to happen. Tell us how Naneth feels.'

Elrohir studied the cut on Celebrían's arm. 'At least it does not seem to be poisoned,' he said, in the hopes of lightening tense feeling of the room as much as the present situation allowed.

'We cannot tell truly until we have lanced it,' responded Elrond in a dull voice.

'But it seems to be healing well enough,' Elladan protested. 'Why do we not leave it?'

'It is not swollen , but see! The skin at the edges is white and slightly puffed,' Elrond explained. 'It is caused by restrained pus. Besides, if it were healing properly, I think that it would not have caused Elrohir so much pain just now.'

Elladan, not having inherited very much healing skill, allowed himself to be outspoken gracefully, something which he did not always manage to do very well.

Elrond took a scalpel from the tray of instruments. He made three or four small incisions in the arm, causing pus and blood to spurt out in small streams. Much to Elrond's chagrin, he saw that there were also many tiny black dots in the blood. 'Though it is not poisoned, it is infected,' he finally announced. 'We must make a poultice of antrenas leaves.' He looked pointedly at Elrohir, who took the hint and left, mostly recovered from his ordeal, though his arm continued to throb uncomfortably.

'Elladan, the water you began heating will be mostly evaporated by now, I expect. You may as well use whatever remains with athelas. More than just your mother could use it now,' he said, giving the herb room where Elrohir was preparing the poultice a fleeting glance.

Elladan rose and went back to the small fireplace. The pot of water was indeed boiling, though the amount in it had diminished greatly.

He joined Elrohir in the herb room and selected the last four leaves of athelas. Taking them the main room along with the bowl of hot water, he tossed the leaves in the water.

Elrohir came out a moment later with the finished poultice in his hands.

Taking it, Elrond wrapped the cloth around his wife's arm. While waiting for it to take affect, Elrond allowed his gaze to stray around the room. The shut door and the almost bare walls. Elladan was standing in front of the window, hands clasped behind his back, scowling at the sunset. Elrohir was again seated on the bed, this time at the foot. He was absent-mindedly pulling loose threads from the quilt. Suddenly Elrohir heaved a sigh and his hand moved from the stubborn thread to his mother's ankle. His thumb and middle finger could easily reach around her ankle and meet again. 'She is so thin,' he said softly.

'Aye, little one, but do not fear. Soon she shall strengthen and be able to eat more.' Elrond's voice smiled slightly, though his eyes remained troubled.

By and by, the sharp, stabbing sensation in Elrohir's arm diminished to a dull throbbing: the poultice seemed to be doing its work well.

After tending to Celebrían's numerous other cuts and scrapes, caused by the Orcs' sharp claws and their cruel beatings, Elrond decided that there was nothing else he could do at the moment. 'We shall know more when she wakes up,' he said to the twins. 'In the meantime, I should like to have a word with you.' He raised an eyebrow at them.

Elladan and Elrohir sighed inwardly, slowly obeying their father when he gestured to them to stand up and walk around to the side of the bed he was on.

It took nearly all of Elrond's will power not to smile at the identical looks of obvious discomfort on their faces. However, with a heroic amount of effort, he kept his face as blank as an unused sheet of parchment.

Elrond stared at them for a moment, changing a chuckle into an un-Elvish snort when Elrohir's hands flew behind his back and his hair fell over one shoulder as he bowed his head in shame and nervousness.

It was an old school-time stance: when they had been caught in the garden during study time by either their tutors or their parents, Elrohir would immediately show guilt, whereas Elladan would argue that they were learning about nature.

But their parents did not seem to understand the importance of studying nature, for after they were re-deposited at their desks, Elrond and Celebrian would request the annoyed tutor to assign extra homework to the naughty Elflings.

Upon hearing the nervous giggle coming from Elladan upon his father's ungainly snort, Elrond recovered himself enough to say, 'I think this conversation would be better to continue in my study.'

With a last glance towards his sleeping wife, he strode towards the door and held it open for his sons, who came considerably more slowly.

As they walked towards the study, Elrohir murmured, 'I wonder if it really will be only a word.'

Elladan glanced up sharply to where their father walked about six feet in front of them and replied in an undertone, 'Well, his minimum lecture time is an hour. If it is just one word, it will take at least an hour to say, otherwise, he will say one word, and then give us his horrible 'silent lecture' for the rest of the time.'

'Unfortunately, you are both wrong,' spoke up Elrond, causing both twins to jump. 'I have every intention of saying many words to you, for any amount of time, whether under an hour or over I cannot say. I expect I could lecture you for a week on all the subjects I intend to cover.'

By this time they had reached the study door and he had turned to face them, his hand on the doorknob.

His face now no longer held any sign of his past amusement at his sons' predicament. Instead, there was a hint of anger and deep disappointment. Opening the door, he jerked his head towards it. 'In.'

Once the door was shut behind them and the miscreants had been placed before the desk to Elrond's liking, he went to stand behind his desk chair, resting his hands on its smooth back.

'So what have you to say for yourselves?' he finally asked.

Two dark heads were simultaneously bowed. But Elrond was not moved by this contrite gesture. 'Well?'

At last Elladan answered, staring at a fascinating knot on the wood floor. 'We are sorry, Adar, we did not mean to disobey you.'

Elrond fought the urge to snort again. 'Do not be ridiculous, Elladan. Of course you meant to disobey me, otherwise you would have found some way to keep yourself here. And as to being sorry, I am sure you are, but only because you know very well that I am going to ground you.'

Elrond let these harsh words sink into his erring children for a moment, then addressed Elladan again. 'And next time you speak to me, try to remember to look at me.'

Elladan nodded mutely, feeling his face going hot as he flushed. Unconsciously his hand reached for Elrohir's, who gripped it sympathetically, equally unconscious of the movement.

Elrohir knew his father expected him to speak now, but he did not know what to say. He continued to stare at the floor, phrases and excuses running through his head.

'Elrohir.'

He jerked his head up at the sound of his name. 'I-I know, Adar, I was –' he stopped, hesitating. Glancing to Elladan for help, he found none and looked back to the imposing form of his father. 'We were wrong to do what we did,' he finally conceded. 'But we had to do something. You should not have expected us to stay –'

Elrond interrupted him. 'Do not tell me what I should or should not have done, Elrohir Elrondion. I gave you an order and I expected it to be obeyed. I fully expected you to stay.'

As he finished speaking, he moved around the desk to stand immediately in front of the twins, glaring at them.

Elladan was gazing at his brother, shocked, while Elrohir returned Elrond's look, respectfully but unflinching.

'You are too hasty,' Elrond ground out from between clenched teeth. 'It will be your downfall one day.' Though he still held Elrohir's mostly-calm gaze, he addressed them both.

Finally cowed by the furious sparks in Elrond's eyes, Elrohir dropped his eyes, emitting an almost inaudible sigh as he did so. Elladan turned to his father, opening his mouth to say something.

'It is not like you, Elrohir, to act in such haste,' Elrond continued in a gentler voice, cutting Elladan off. 'Most times you think before you act, but this time you ignored your feelings and behaved rashly.'

He paused as he noticed Elladan's eyes flicker to his brother for an instant. 'Or was it perhaps –'

'Nay, Adar, you speak the truth,' interrupted Elrohir without thinking. 'I did act without thought.

'As you just spoke without thought,' Elrond replied wryly.

Elrohir was confused for a moment and drew his brows together, wondering what his father was speaking of. Understanding, he blushed. 'Forgive me for interrupting, Adar.'

Elrond inclined his head slightly. He turned back to Elladan. 'Now Elladan, it was your idea, was it not?' His voice was again dangerously soft.

'Yes, Adar. At first Elrohir did not wish to go. He reminded me that we would be disobeying you, but I did not care. I wanted to go find Naneth, and I supposed Elrohir would not oppose my plan. But he did.'

Elladan half-smiled and Elrohir took his chance to break in once again.

'No, no, it was not like that Elladan. I – I had every intention of going with you, but...' He trailed off into silence.

'But what?' prompted Elrond.

Elrohir tossed his head in defiance. 'But nothing, Adar! But nothing! It was not simply Elladan's idea. I knew he would go, despite what you said. And I knew I would go with him.'

Elrond moved to the window. 'I thank you for telling the truth, at any rate, if for nothing else,' he said dryly. 'However, there were countless other faults you two committed on the way. For instance, breaking your promises to Glorfindel to go with Hérion and his Elves if you met with them after joining Glorfindel.'

Elladan, who finally gotten his tongue back, muttered unwisely, 'Hang Glorfindel. Why did he have to tell everything?'

'Because I asked him and he knows better than to go against the orders of his overlord.' Elrond turned back to his sons. 'Do not frown at me, Elladan. It is unbecoming to your features.'

Elladan's scowl darkened. Elrohir, seeing this was leading no where good, stepped in front of his hot-tempered brother, hoping to shield him slightly.

'What would you do if your mother was taken by Orcs, yes, I know, Naneth is your wife, but just let me continue,' Elrohir insisted boldly as Elrond took several steps towards him, his face as dark as Elladan's. 'What would you do if you were going after her and you got more than half-way there, only to meet with your father's best friend who made you go back with the party of Elves searching for you?'

'I would not obey him, for he would have no power over me. Lord though Glorfindel may be, I am his overlord as long as he dwells in Imladris, the same as I am yours. I sent Hérion out to bring you back here, and when he had you, you escaped while he was fighting Orcs. You forced him to return to me and report, saying that though he was watching you every moment you were awake, you still managed to evade him.'

'I do not regret doing it, nor shall I ever,' Elrohir replied, his dark eyes flashing. Though he may seem quiet at most times, when defending the actions of his brother or himself that he believed had been done with good cause, he was as quick and rash as Elladan.

Firm hands came down to rest on his shoulders and he was spun around and moved back to beside Elladan.

'Elrohir, you will not speak again until I bid you to, and if you do, you shall face more severe consequences than you already are.'

Elrohir looked as though he would protest but Elladan gave him a solid kick in the shin and Elrohir merely yelped in pain and surprise. Casting a glance at his father's eerily-calm face he knew that only an insane Elf would go against his orders at this point.

Elladan was usually much more vocal in discussions like this one, but never had he seen Elrohir act so forward and brash, and it stunned him. He decided to see the outcome of his brother's words and stood in silence until he saw that Elrohir was going to say something again, right after being forbidden to do so.

Elrond turned his eyes from Elrohir's stubborn face to Elladan's bewildered face. 'Since your brother has expressed himself so fully, what have you to say?'

Elladan swallowed hard and glanced at the steely countenance of his brother. He felt much as Elrohir did but he had no desire to tell his father, nor did he think of telling a lie: his father always saw through those sorts of things. 'I am sorry that Hérion was forced to give you such a report,' he finally said, glancing up to gauge his father's response to his statement. 'I will apologise to him for his troubles, but not for running away from him.'

'You most certainly will apologise to him,' Elrond agreed. He did not appear to have been further angered by the second part of Elladan's reply, perhaps because it was so much more respectfully given than was Elrohir's. 'Elrohir will too, will you not, Elrohir?'

Elrohir glared daggers at the tips of his boots before looking up at Elrond and replying obstinately, 'I will go with Elladan.'

Elrond lifted his eyes to the ceiling and blew out a breath of air. _Thank Eru Elladan is acting like Elrohir for this. I do not think I could manage both of them if they were both being this difficult._ Turning to Elrohir, he said, 'If I need to stand behind you and make sure you do, I will.'

Elrohir felt the touch of Elladan's mind against his own. _'Elrohir, stop being an idiot; you are dragging this on much longer than it needs to be. You do realise he is going to start treating you as a child soon.'_

' _Leave me alone, Elladan. It is not as though you would care.'_

' _Very well, Elfling,'_ responded Elladan, intending it to cut.

With a low cry of fury, Elrohir turned to face his brother. Raising his hand, he struck Elladan across the face before either Elrond or Elladan could do anything to stop him. Instantly he lifted his hand to do it again when he found it caught in an iron grip. He gave an involuntarycry of pain as his arm was twisted behind his back. The gesture was repeated with his other arm.

He was angry, furiously angry and he didn't care what happened to him. He struggled futilely against his father but he could do next to nothing because kicking meant he would jerk against his arms, which were still held in a grip that was tightened each time he tried to get away.

Tears of rage began to course their way down his cheeks and finally he was forced to his knees by the pain in his arms. He knelt there as Elrond gradually released his agonising grip on his arms. Still not wishing to give in, he half-heartedly tried to shake off the restraining hand Elrond kept on his shoulder, so as to discourage any impulsive move towards his brother.

Elladan's cheek was bright red and a bruise was already beginning to show. Elrohir's nails had scraped some skin off from right below Elladan's left eye, and one particularly deep scrape was bleeding sluggishly. He was staring at Elrohir, still slightly dazed, but Elrohir would not look up. 'I... forgive me, Ro. I should not have called you that.'

Elrohir made no sign that he had even heard Elladan speaking.

'Elladan, is your cheek alright?' asked Elrond, slightly concerned. He stepped around Elrohir and turned Elladan's face this way and that, inspecting the scratches and bruising. 'The scratches will heal in a day or two, and the bruise not long after that. Come here please, Elrohir.'

Slowly Elrohir stood up and went to stand with his father and brother, staring between their heads. 'Elrohir, have you not been stubborn enough already?' sighed Elrond. 'You know what I want you to do.'

'I do know,' answered Elrohir in a tight voice. 'But I am not sorry, Adar. It served him right.'

'Why? What did he do?'

But Elrohir resolutely shut his mouth, crossed his arms and scowled at the floor.

'Answer me please, Elrohir.' Elrond's voice, though gentle, brooked no argument.

'Adar, I–'

'Elladan, I am asking your brother. You are free to leave in a moment.' Moving to his desk, he grabbed a stack of papers. 'In your free time for the next week you will write reports of the Guard training.' Elrond handed him the pile and ignored the small scowl. Elladan hated writing reports.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part VII**

Once Elladan left the room, Elrond turned back to Elrohir, who was fiddling with the end of one of his braids. 'I am willing to stay here all evening if I need to, Elrohir. I can be just as stubborn as you and Elladan when I want to. And I can get a good deal angrier, as well. Are you going to tell me?'

Elrohir made no answer. He unconsciously rubbed his arms. They hurt more than he cared to admit.

Elrond, seeing that no answer was coming, went to his desk and sat down. Taking a quill, an inkpot, and the top document from his stack of paperwork, he read it over and began writing.

Elrohir watched him balefully for a few moments, then walked over to a bookshelf.

Elrond glanced up. 'Elrohir, you are not here to read.'

'But you are doing that now,' reasoned Elrohir, indicating the paperwork.

'Simply because you are not cooperating with me,' Elrond replied evenly.

'You are not even trying anymore, though!' Elrohir knew he had no right to speak like this, but he wanted to argue.

Elrond closed his eyes, trying to force down the urge to sigh deeply. 'There is a reason for that, my son. I have been trying ever since I first brought up the subject in the healing room, but all you have been is stubborn and wilful.' As Elrohir scowled, he continued. 'Do you want to talk now, Elrohir?'

'About what?' He knew very well 'about what,' but he had not expected the conversation to take this route so soon. He decided to end the conversation by making Elrond ignore him.

'What do you want to talk about?' Unfortunately for Elrohir, Elrond knew exactly what his son was doing, and he had no intention of letting Elrohir off so easily.

Elrohir knew he was trapped. 'Nothing!' he snapped.

'Then I will choose,' Elrond rejoined serenely. 'Elrohir, why did you strike Elladan?'

'I do not want to speak about that, Adar.'

'I do. Are you going to answer me or not?' Elrond stared unblinkingly at his miserable child, wondering how long this was going to take.

Elrohir was clearly getting flustered. 'He will tell you. He is willing. Why do you not ask him?'

'I do not ask him, Elrohir, because I am asking you.' Elrond put his quill down and walked over to the bookshelves. Elrohir was busy tormenting a spider with a bookmark.

Elrond watched for a moment, then reached over and plucked the bookmark easily from Elrohir's unsuspecting fingers. Setting it down on a bookcase away from the web, he took Elrohir's arm firmly and pulled him over to the couch at the other end of the study. 'Sit,' he ordered.

Elrohir shook his head stubbornly, though he knew it was a foolish thing to do. 'I do not want to,' he said.

Elrond was getting impatient. 'I did not mean it as a question of preference, it was an order.'

With a heavy sigh, Elrohir sat down and pulled his legs up to rest on the cushions.

'I can easily find the key to the Staircase here, you know,' Elrond said after a moment of silence. 'Get your boots off the couch.'

Elrohir obliged grudgingly as Elrond crouched down in front of him to be at eye-level with him.

When they had been mischievous Elflings, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen had often found themselves sitting forlornly on 'Ada's Staircase,' thinking either over their bad behaviour or the best way to escape.

'Ada's Staircase' led from the study to the kitchens, but the door to the kitchens had long been blocked off to make room for another storage for pots and crockery. Now the only way out was through the study, but each child had only tried to escape once since all three of them had been caught on the first try.

It was dimly lit by one window which only an Elfling could manage to fit through, but no Elfling could have reached it. Heat from the kitchen came in from under the closet, making it warm enough to be used in wintertime.

At the threat of being forced into the staircase which Arwen had long since grown out of, Elrohir flushed angrily.

'Either snap out of this childish behaviour and tell me what happened or you will find yourself sitting on the stairs,' Elrond said sharply getting up to sit beside Elrohir.

Elrohir could not decide which was worse: to admit that he had made such a fuss over being called an Elfling or being imprisoned on the staircase.

He looked at his father imploringly. 'Adar,' he pleaded. ' _Please_ ask Ladan. He did start it, really.'

In answer Elrond stood up and walked over to his desk. Opening a drawer he rummaged around for a moment. Elrohir watched in confusion.

Finally, Elrond found what he was looking for. Walking back to Elrohir, he took one of Elrohir's hands in his and opened the tightly-clenched fist and dropped what he was holding onto his palm.

It was the key.

He stared at his father who remained standing in front of him, then at the key. Nervously, he chewed at his lower lip. He knew he would never permit himself to be locked up in the stairway. That left one option: to tell Elrond why he had slapped Elladan, scratching him hard enough to draw blood.

He slowly looked up at Elrond, gave a last vicious bite to his lip which caused him to wince in surprise, and began: 'I slapped Elladan because...' he paused and glanced down at the key on his palm, wondering if it was worth it.

Elrond seemed to know what he was thinking of. He touched Elrohir's mind. _Even if you do not tell me now and go to the stairs, you will still end up telling me everything, child_.

'Because...' Elrond prompted gently.

'Because he called me an Elfling,' Elrohir said in a small voice.

He waited for the expected outburst. It did not come.

Instead he felt the dip of the cushion as Elrond sat down again. Why was his father not raging at him? He distractedly began picking at a scab on his finger, being careful to completely avoid looking at Elrond.

'Elrohir,' said Elrond softly. 'Look at me, please.'

After Elrohir's eyes met his, he continued. 'Elladan called you and Elfling.'

'He did, Adar,' Elrohir confirmed, his throat beginning to constrict painfully. He looked away again.

'Do you not think that you were acting like one?' Elrond inquired, gently turning Elrohir's face back to his.

Elrohir closed his eyes and he would have bowed his head if his father had not been holding it up. 'Yes Adar,' he murmured, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

'So if you knew, why were you so angry with him?'

'I was not angry at only Elladan. I... I was angry at Naneth for getting captured. I was angry at you for because you would not give us permission to go. But we went anyways, which made you angry with us too. I was angry at your for sending Hérion after us, and at Glorfindel for making us go with Hérion, and with Hérion because he made it so difficult to escape. I was angry at Elladan for making me go and then making me explain everything. But mostly I was angry at myself for being angry at everyone else when I had no good cause.'

Elrohir's voice broke and he hung his head in shame.

Elrond knew that Elrohir was truly contrite, but they were not yet finished.

'Were you angry from the beginning?' Elrond was quite sure he knew the answer but he wanted Elrohir to confirm it.

'What do you mean?' Elrohir raised his eyes to his father's again.

'I mean, were you angry at yourself when you first rode from Rivendell after I forbade it?'

'Y-yes,' Elrohir replied hesitantly, wondering where this was going.

'Then why did you continue after Hérion was escorting you back here? Why did you just let Glorfindel continue to your Naneth and come home? Did you not trust Glorfindel?'

Elrohir shook his head, sending his hair flying. 'No, of course I trusted him, but it was Naneth! You do not sincerely think we _would_ leave her to be found by Glorfindel?'

'I had hoped you would. I needed you as well, you know.' Elrond's voice was incredibly gentle as he recalled the feelings of terrible loneliness and worry. 'My heart was separated into several pieces: worry for Naneth, worry for you and Elladan, and doubt and anger at myself for staying here instead of joining in the search.'

'That is what Glorfindel said as well,' Elrohir replied slowly. 'I am sorry, Adar. We did not think it would matter much. I see now that we were mistaken.'

'So, even as you continued riding towards Redhorn, you knew you were simply making yourself angrier and angrier, and yet you went on?'

Elrohir nodded. 'And now I have been so outrageously disrespectful and outspoken with you,' he mourned. 'It is as though Ladan and I both got knocked unconscious and I am really he, while he is really me.'

Elrond smiled at this logic. 'I confess I wondered the same thing several times during your many tirades. Elladan had never seen you speak so much in such anger. It surprised him and he was curious: he decided to let you do the speaking until you realised what you were doing and stopped. Of course, finally he could no longer bear it when he saw you were going to immediately defy me after I ordered you to be silent 'til I gave you leave to speak.'

Elrohir could do nothing but sigh. He was overwhelmingly mortified at what his behaviour had been towards his father and lord, and part of him expected to be punished no less severely than to be removed from the Imladris Guard in payment for his uncurbed tongue and his appalling actions. 'It was wrong of me, Adar. Forgive me?'

Elrond pulled Elrohir to his side, who hid his face in his father's neck, and dropped a kiss on the dark head as he held him tightly. 'Forgiven,' he murmured into his son's ear.

He felt the collar of his tunic growing damp from tears. Elrohir's body shook with the force of his sobs, not of anger or frustration now, but of remorse and, Elrond noted wryly, fatigue: the twins almost certainly not rested well for days. Elrond absentmindedly ran his fingers down the intricately-woven hair while waiting for Elrohir to calm down.

At length Elrohir's sobs quieted to sniffles and hiccups. Elrond turned his face into the smooth hair and said quietly, 'If you are ready, I think you should go apologise to Elladan now, at any rate, and then lie down. You look as though you are not alert enough to walk a foot past your bedchamber door. And as to your implication that Elladan made you go with him, you know he did not. He may have pressured you but you made the decision in the end. Likewise, he did not make you explain everything. You have only yourself to blame for saying so much. For your punishment, I think you can polish the armour in the main armoury in your spare time. Tell Elladan that after that and his reports, you may both work together clearing up the main cellar.'

Elrohir inwardly groaned. He hated polishing armour, chiefly because of the strong smell of the polish and the fact that he could hardly move his fingers afterwards because they were so stiff. Some of the pieces of armour were incredibly difficult to clean to Glorfindel's and Elrond's tastes.

The main cellar was notorious for its large size and its seemingly-always messy state. No matter how long the Elves worked to clean it up, it seemed to always be covered in boxes and barrels. However, it could be done with both dedication and determination.

After reflecting on this for a moment, Elrohir sat up. He chose to ignore his father's amused countenance as he read his son's thoughts. He scrubbed his tear-stained face with his fists. Realising he still held the key in one hand, he slowly returned it to his father. 'I promise I will not do it again.'

'Do what again?'

'Why... everything, I suppose.'

'Are you sure that that is a promise you can keep? To never disobey me, disrespect your elders, and take no more and no less shame than is your merit ever again?'

Elrohir sighed. How many times had he made rash promises before? 'I promise I will try not to disobey and disrespect you, Adar.' He glanced out the window at the moon-lit sky and changed the subject. 'What time will Naneth awake, do you think?'

'Not until tomorrow, I believe. I gave her a pain medication earlier, and it put her to sleep in her weakened state.'

'But she shall be alright?' Elrohir insisted.

'We shall have to wait 'til the morrow to find that out, but I think everything will be fine. Now good night. I do not wish to see you again until tomorrow.'

Elrond escorted Elrohir to the door. After latching it, he leaned against it with a sigh. He had not expected it to be this difficult. Elrohir had always been easier to discipline as a child than his brother. At least the cellar would keep them out of trouble.

Walking to his desk, he put the quill and inkpot away, then moved towards the door. He did not feel like doing paperwork, not when he could be sitting with Celebrian. After all, he did paperwork every day.

Elrohir went slowly towards his bedchambers. As he walked, he thought of what he would say to Elladan. He still worried that Elladan would be furious with him.

As he had expected, Elladan was sitting in his own room, across from Elrohir's. He seemed to be admiring the newly-acquired scrape beneath his eye in a mirror. He turned when the door opened and greeted Elrohir grimly, though not in an unfriendly manner.

Elrohir hesitated only for a moment. 'Adar says I have to apologise,' he said, equally grimly. 'So I am sorry. You have a blood stain on your nose.'

Elladan glanced in the mirror again. There was indeed a red smudge on his nose. He wiped it off, really only succeeding in getting more on and spreading it out.

Elrohir walked over, holding out a handkerchief. 'Take it as a peace offering,' he said as Elladan took it. 'I am almost jealous of you: the cut looks grand, as though you fought off a whole band of Orcs by yourself...' He stopped in mid-sentence as he realised what he was saying.

'Let us go see how Naneth is,' Elladan said abruptly. Even though Celebrian was no longer in apparent danger of death, she looked hardly any better than she had before she was stabilized.

'You may,' Elrohir replied. 'Adar says he does not want to see me again until tomorrow.'

'He was that angry with you?' Elladan asked, surprised. He knew that the extents of his father's displeasure could be great, but he had not seen Elrond this riled in a long time. 'Did you make more of a fool of yourself?'

'No and yes,' laughed Elrohir, sitting down on the foot of the twin-sized bed, though only one twin used it. 'I mean, he was angry enough – more annoyed and impatient than angry, really – but I suppose I deserved everything I got. I was a stubborn brat most of the time. He told me to apologise to you, then go to bed.' He got up and went to stand behind Elladan so he could see in the mirror. 'He said I look so tired he is convinced that I shall not be able to walk a foot past my bedroom door.'

'Ha, I suppose you threw a tantrum at that,' Elladan cried triumphantly. 'At least you would have three hundred years ago.'

'Perhaps, but unfortunately, this is three hundred years _after_ what it was three hundred years _ago_ and I no longer throw tantrums at the smallest of things,' he shot back at his brother. Then, remembering his actions in his father's study, he added, 'Not at all things, at any rate.'

Elladan laughed, then went to the door, tugging Elrohir with him. 'Go to bed then; I shall go to Naneth and report to you when I return. Good evening.'

Elrohir said likewise and crossed the hallway to his room while Elladan made his way towards Celebrían's temporary living quarters.

Elrohir found suddenly that he did indeed feel tired, so tired that he found it difficult to pull off his boots and tunic before collapsing on his bed in his shirt and leggings. So it was that when Elladan came in an hour later, he found his brother fast asleep, sprawled on top of his covers. His hair was spread in an unruly way on the pillow, and Elladan was pleased to see that his eyes were open in his sleep. For the last few nights, the twins had slept with their eyes closed, due to their fatigue and injuries, no matter the minority of the latter.

Fetching one of the blankets from his own room, he came back and covered Elrohir with it, then left, softly shutting the door behind him.

Elladan made his way to the stables. He wanted to be alone to think, and the stables were the best place for this. At this time, the stable hands had bedded the animals down for the night and returned to their families.

Settling himself down in the soft hay in Beledhel's stall, he put his chin in his hands and watched as his horse gently nudged him, looking for any stray apples or sugar cubes. 'Forgive me, mellon nin, I did not bring anything this time. I promise I shall bring extra tomorrow.'

He raised one hand and gingerly felt his cheek where Elrohir had slapped him. The scrape underneath his eye still smarted, but, as Elrohir had said, it certainly did not mar his appearance.

For a moment he paused as Beledhel lay down beside him, blowing softly through his nose as he got into a comfortable position.

Returning to his thoughts, he wondered what the future held. Would his mother die, or would she recover wholly? It was possible, Elrond had said while they were visiting Celebrian, that she would suffer from the memories and attacks from her imagination that no one could cure. If that were to be the case, Celebrian would either fade or pass over the Sea to the Blessed Realm.

 _Valar forbid!_ Elladan thought. If Celebrian left, surely their whole family would be sundered. Their mother was the heart of Imladris, for after she was captured the leaves and branches of the trees seemed to droop and flowers began to wither. Birds no longer sang and the Elves went around their duties quietly and solemnly.

Their father's manner was fey and distracted, and Elladan could see that he was still upset with the twins.

Abruptly his train of thought ended as hurried footsteps sounded in front of the stable and the door was opened. 'Elladan!' came Erestor's weary voice from the entryway.

He stood up. 'Yes?'

'Your father bid me tell you that the gates are going to be locked in a moment. You had best come in.' Erestor walked over to Beledhel's stall and held out his hand, on which an apple sat.

Beledhel stood up and took the offered treat, whinnying his thanks. After finishing the tasty apple, he turned to Elladan with an aggrieved look in his eyes. Despite his best efforts, Elladan could not help laughing.

'I do believe you have stolen the animal's heart, Erestor,' he said the older Elf. 'I shall have to give him to you, as he no longer enjoys my presence.'

He stood up. 'However, I shall come inside now. Has Naneth's condition changed, do you know?'

'I do not believe she has stirred,' Erestor said sympathetically. 'Where is Elrohir? I have not seen him for hours.'

'He is in his room, asleep. He was exhausted.'

'And you are not?' Erestor turned to Elladan and inspected the rumpled tunic and cloak and the dark hair, which was coming out of its clip. Reaching up, he plucked a piece of straw out of it. 'I expect you are just as tired as your brother is. You should also lie down.'

'Perhaps, in a little while.' Elladan resumed walking. 'I want to see Naneth again.'

'Your father may not appreciate that. He wants Celebrian to get as much rest as possible.'

Elladan snorted. 'She will not wake up, no matter how much noise I make. I daresay Adar is sitting there, anyways. If he wants Naneth to be left alone, he had better set the example.'

Erestor was taken by surprise, but he found his tongue instantly. 'You had best watch your tongue, Elladan Elrondion. Disrespect caused by fear and anxiety is one thing, but disrespect caused by anger and bitterness is another.'

By this time they were at the nearest door into the Last Homely House, where the guards were already extinguishing the lamps right inside it and making ready to lock the door for the long night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part VIII**

Celebrian did not wake the next morning. Elrond began to fear that he had given her too strong a dose of the painkiller, but on closer inspection to the infected wound, he saw that it was not healing as he would have liked.

Elladan did his writing in the healing room where he could sit with his mother. Elrohir aided his brother with the reports – he was better at it than Elladan – and polished the armour in the evening, when he ought to have been doing other duties which Elladan took over for him.

Elrond did not exactly approve of this: after all, he had said that it was to be done in Elrohir's spare time, when in fact, he was neglecting other duties to shine breastplates and helmets. He would have interfered had it not been for the peace he saw the presence of the twins gave to his wife. _How much more quickly she would recover if Arwen were here as well,_ thought Elrond wistfully.

Arwen had remained in Lórien; Elrond had advised her to stay there against his will. He had not wanted her to see her mother in this state. The messenger he had sent had probably just arrived in Lórien.

Celebrian slept peacefully until the late afternoon, when she began to jerk and mumble. At first Elrond supposed it was caused by the nightmares, but when he entered his wife's mind to dispel the evil dreams, he found that everything was completely black: Celebrian was not having nightmares. It was as though she was in a deep void of pain that no light could penetrate the surface of.

Pain.

His Celebrian was in pain, and he could do nothing to stop it until he found out where it was stemming from. Her wounds were healing, though the arm was still puffed and irritated.

Pulling up the sleeve of the nightdress, Elrond bit back a cry when he saw the wound. The sound brought Elladan, who had been working on his report, to the side of the bed. The wound looked hardly different that when he had last saw it, and he glanced at his father in confusion. 'What is it, Adar? What is wrong?'

Elrond stared at the wound, not hearing anything but the moans, not seeing anything but the angry red and black marks just visible under the puffy edge of the wound.

'It is poisoned,' he finally managed when he noticed Elladan's questioning eyes.

'Poisoned! But how could you have missed it? You made a thorough examination of it yesterday.' Elladan's voice rose in panic and he stood up and strode to the door. For the first time in centuries, Elladan was not reprimanded when he yelled down the hallway at the top of his voice for his twin.

Elrohir, knowing that it was serious from Elladan's unusual tone of voice, came running up three flights of stairs, three at a time – another thing that Elrond did not approve of – following the sound of Elladan's frantic voice.

'What is it? Is Naneth worse?' he cried as he ran down the hallway towards his brother.

'Yes. Her wound – it is poisoned! Somehow Adar overlooked it in his examination.' Elladan dragged his brother into the room to the bed.

Elrond had already prepared to lance the wound, with the sterilised tools and the bowl of water. 'Elrohir, Elladan, I need your help. Get over here,' he ordered sharply, relieved when they came at once instead of staring at the ugly wound.

After Elrond had said that it was poisoned, it swiftly began to swell and pus. A foul smell arose from the flesh around it; it also was infected.

Elrond again made several incisions on the swollen arm, allowing the wound to drain. Black streaks made their way down the arm, stretching a couple inches down the arm before stopping.

Handing the bowl to one of the twins, he left the room for his library. 'Hold it there,' he instructed as he shut the door.

In the library, Elrond frantically went through the healing books that he thought most likely had the remedy to the poison. Nothing seemed to reveal itself, and after a quarter of an hour, he grew impatient. He made his way back to the healing room.

Celebrían's arm had not improved; if anything it had worsened. 'Get athelas,' he snapped at Elrohir, who did not have the bowl. Elrohir went towards the herb room, but returned a moment later. 'There is no more, Adar,' he said quietly.

'What do you mean, there is no more?' Elrond stopped his work momentarily to stare at his younger son.

'Elladan used the last of them yesterday morning. I shall go and find some, if you command it.' Elrohir started for the door, not waiting for Elrond's reply.

'No! Send Glorfindel. Asfaloth is the fastest horse in Imladris. He shall be the most swift.'

'I can go, Adar. Please let me,' Elrohir pleaded.

'I told you to tell Glorfindel to go, Elrohir. I gave you an order, now obey it instantly. Your mother is dying, and you are standing arguing with me!' Elrond hated himself for speaking such words in the tone he did, but he knew it would be effective.

Elrohir spun around and ran out the door towards Glorfindel's study.

Glorfindel had heard Elladan's wild shout and he had heard the crash as Elrohir dropped the breastplate he was polishing on the cobblestone floor in his haste to get to his brother.

With difficulty, he had forced himself to remain in the study unless he was called for. Now he heard the running footsteps, unusually loud for an Elf, and the door flew open with a bang. Elrohir appeared, and, upon seeing Glorfindel sitting there, burst out, 'Glorfindel, Adar needs athelas right now. We have no more,' and then was gone again.

Glorfindel jumped up from his chair and was at the stable in record time. He had saddled Asfaloth within moments and was seen madly galloping towards the woods where Elrond was known to gather athelas. But he had never gone with his lord to harvest it, and he did not know where in the forest to find it. Riding as fast as he could without having the danger of missing it, he scanned the ground. He saw nothing.

Moments passed and he found no leaf that even resembled the herb needed so urgently. _What if Celebrian dies because I cannot find it? What if she is already dead?_ These morbid thoughts ran through his mind faster than Asfaloth's hooves were flying.

At last he saw hope: an elleth was a ways away gathering leaves. Reining in beside her, he said in a clipped tone, 'Mistress, where might I find athelas?'

Seeing Glorfindel's obvious hurry, she pointed towards an empty glade. A much-used path led up to it and Glorfindel swiftly made his way to it. In the glade were many small patches of athelas, and he cut a handful of leaves.

Leaping back onto Asfaloth, he rode back the way he had come, stopping at the door to the house instead of the stable. Leaving Asfaloth to the stable hands who came running, he tore through the house towards the family's private healing room, ignoring the surprised looks of unknowing Elves.

Opening the door, he saw Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir sitting around the bed on which Celebrian lay, her chest barely moving with each tiny breath she took. Her right arm was an angry red colour, and her hair clung to her sweaty forehead.

'How is she?' he asked in a low tone once he had taken in the family.

Elrond stood to take the athelas leaves Glorfindel held in his hand. 'Her arm is poisoned and infected, and she has a high fever. I do not know what kind of poison the Orcs used; I cannot treat it the right way. Until the arm is healed, the fever will not break.'

'I am sorry, my friend,' Glorfindel said as Elrond placed three of the leaves in the hot water they had prepared. 'Is there something else you want me to do?'

'I do not know,' Elrond whispered in desperation. 'I do not know what _I_ should be doing.'

Glorfindel left after a few moments, knowing he would be called if Elrond needed assistance. Elrond concentrated on easing his wife's pain, but he found it was not easy: the pain had clouded her mind and he could not easily overcome it.

He finally gave up in desperation, and turned to Elladan who was standing beside him. 'Go to the library and bring all the books I have on poison,' he ordered.

Elladan left immediately to do his father's bidding and Elrond turned back to Celebrian. Her heartbeat was irregular and her breathing rasped and rattled. There was little time left to find a cure.

As Elrond and Elrohir sat with Celebrian, one on each side of the bed, the sound of hooves on the cobblestones alerted the guards outside the house to the presence of visitors. The commotion rose to the healing room where Elrond and his son were. Both sighed inwardly, knowing that if it were visitors from the Rangers or some of the human villages near by, one of them would have to leave Celebrian to welcome the newcomers.

At a nod from his father, Elrohir rose reluctantly and moved towards the door. The visitor did not know of the goings-on in Imladris; thus his curiosity was piqued when he saw not the Lord of Imladris but the Lord's son come to the door.

Elrohir, upon recognising the chief of the Dúnedain, cried out in unexpected pleasure, 'Arador! What brings you here? Has it gone ill with your people?'

'I am sorry if I am come at an inopportune time, Lord – Elrohir,' Arador responded, taking in both the twin in an attempt to decipher his identity, and the silence of the surrounding Elves.

'Indeed, Imladris does not seem as welcoming as it usually does towards your people, and for that I apologise. Misfortune has come upon my family, and upon the whole of the Valley,' Elrohir said after a short pause.

Arador bowed his head in sympathy. 'I fear my news shall not lighten the tension,' he said slowly. 'My people have tracked large companies of Orcs through the mountains, and we have suffered three ambushes, with many losses on both sides.'

Elrohir, to Arador's surprise, laughed bitterly. 'The Orcs are the cause of our troubles,' he said in explanation. 'The Lady Celebrian was captured by the foul creatures and is now lying a breadth only away from Mandos' Halls.'

Arador stifled a gasp at this news. Celebrian had always seemed to light up the Last Homely House when he and his people were staying there; without her, Arador could hardly imagine Imladris.

Elrohir knew what Arador was thinking, for the expression on the man's face was easy to read. After a moment he seemed to start. 'But forgive my ill manners,' he said suddenly, his face and voice showing no emotion. 'My father sent me to welcome you and here you stand and here I stand and I have not even asked you into my House.'

With that, he stood aside and bowed his head, gesturing Arador into the Hall before them.

'Thank you, my Lord,' Arador said quietly.

'I will show you to a guest room,' Elrohir offered. 'How long will you remain with us?'

'No more than two days at the most, I should think,' Arador replied. 'I came mainly because the Rangers are either after the Orcs or they are lying wounded, being tended by our healers.'

They arrived at a spare guest room and Elrohir turned to leave. 'Do you need anything? I can have someone bring you bread and wine if you desire it.'

'Nay, though I thank you,' Arador said, his voice seeming to come from far away. 'You had best return to your father and mother,' he added on after a moment.

'Be sure to call if you change your mind,' Elrohir said as he left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

He made his way back towards Celebrían's chamber in silence. 'Eru, do not take her from us. Adar will fade if you do; he shall sail West and Imladris shall fall,' he murmured out loud.

As he re-entered the room, he found Elrond flipping through a thick volume while Elladan sat singing gently to Celebrian as he fingered a lock of her beautiful hair.

Elrohir moved towards the table where several other books were stacked. Taking the nearest one, he began going through it as swiftly as he could.

'Who was it?' Elrond questioned, glancing up momentarily from his pages.

'Arador,' Elrohir replied briefly.

'Why?' This time it was Elladan who spoke.

Elrohir snorted. 'He wanted to warn us of the Orcs in the Mountains.'

'Do not scorn him for that, Elrohir,' Elrond reproved him gently. 'He had no way of knowing.'

Elrohir sighed. 'I know, Adar. I was not scorning him. The Orcs have been causing the Rangers trouble: ambushing and murdering many. It is merely a coincidence, is it not, that he would come this time to warn us?'

'It is indeed,' Elrond said after a moment. 'It was thoughtful of them to come to us even though they are in peril.' He turned his attention back to his book, running his finger over the pages, lips moving in silent words. Nothing he read of seemed to be the herb that would stop the poison from spreading throughout Celebrían's frail body.

Not appeased by his father's words, Elladan muttered rebelliously, 'I am inclined to agree with Elrohir. He would have been better to remain with his people. He should not have left them if they too were being attacked.'

Elrond chose not to answer. When Elladan was in this kind of mood, it was better not to try to reason with him, for Elladan would merely continue the argument for as long as possible.

Celebrían's tenuous hold on life seemed to be stronger than it really was, because she was still breathing by the time Elrohir and Elrond had gone through all the books Elladan had brought from the library. They had found nothing that would help their wife and mother.

She remained in this condition until evening when she began to gasp for breath, each one coming slowly and painfully after the last one. Finally with a weak cough that wracked her whole body, she coughed up blood, specked with black. After this fresh attack on her strained breathing, her lungs could not take it anymore. She stopped breathing, and her husband and sons looked on in helplessness as her lips began to take on a blue tinge. Elrond breathed for her, he surrounded her fëa with his and gave her healing strength but Celebrían's breast did not begin to rise and fall once more.

She was dead.

Elrond was on the verge of collapse from exhaustion: he had given most of his strength to Celebrian. Suddenly he sat up straighter and said in a weak tone, 'Get Arador. Tell him to come at once.'

Elrohir left immediately, blinking back the tears that had gathered in his eyes, and wiping away the ones that had overflowed.

He ran towards Arador's room and opened the door without knocking. Arador was sitting at the foot of his bed, polishing his sword.

'Arador... we need you in Naneth's room. She has stopped breathing; Adar wants you immediately.' Elrohir spoke in one breath, his eyes frantically darting around the room, returning to Arador when Arador placed his sword hastily on the bed beside him and rose.

They returned to the healing room where Celebrían's lay, still and cold. Elrond said as soon as Arador had stepped over the threshold, 'Arador, you are the Heir of Isildur. You have healing powers. Try to revive her.'

Arador moved towards the bed, not questioning the lord of Imladris. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he placed one hand on one of Celebrían's cheeks, the other over her heart. Bending down so his face was close to hers, he blew, stirring the lifeless curls on her forehead. He murmured soft words of healing and comfort to her but still she made no sign of life.

'Athelas! Do you have some?' he said suddenly, then went back to speaking to Celebrian.

Elrohir handed him the remainder of the leaves Glorfindel had found and before long the room was again filled with the fresh, cool scent of the healing herb.

In Celebrían's mind, there was nothing but blackness, pain and confusion. _Where am I?_ she asked herself. _Who keeps speaking to me, begging something of me, and why can I not do it?_ She did not recognise the sounds of her husband's pleading voice, nor Elladan's voice as he sang to her, or Elrohir's as he spoke with Elrond and Elladan. They were distressed as well. _About what? Me?_

What was wrong with her? Why did her right arm throb so badly, why were there voices screaming in her head?

Then one voice ordered one of the other voices to do something and only two voices spoke. _Had the other one left?_ Then the same voice ordered the other one to leave as well and there was silence.

Finally the door opened again and one of the voices – the one which had left first – returned. There was a thump and the first voice was again speaking to the second voice.

Celebrian sensed a presence near to her but no matter how hard she tried she could not open her eyes. The second voice began to sing gently, and something took hold of her hand.

Startled and fearful, she fought against whatever was holding her. The song stopped and the voice seemed to say something. _What does it mean? Why can I not understand what it is saying?_

Her hand was laid down after a moment and the song commenced again.

Finally the third voice returned and it seemed to be speaking with the first voice. Then the second voice, the one which had just been singing to her, broke in. It sounded bitter. Why?

This went on for hours, and Celebrian could make nothing of it. Every now and then, she dozed off, mainly because one of the people in the room kept making her drink a strange-tasting liquid which made her mind go blank and the pain dull.

Every time she woke up, her chest seemed to be tighter and it began to ache every time she tried to breathe. Finally she could bear the pain no longer and began to gasp every time she inhaled.

After what seemed an age, everything dimmed and went a fuzzy grayish-blackish colour. From far off, a light came nearer, growing in size and brightness as it drew close. All at once it stood beside her bed, and it took the form of a person.

It opened its mouth to speak and Celebrian found she could make sense of what was being said.

'Who are you?' she said in her mind, knowing somehow the stranger would be able to understand her.

'I am Mandos, and I have come to take you to my Halls, my child. Will you come?' He held out his hand to her, and from it came a cool breeze. The touch of the breeze on her face reminded her of sitting in the twilight's gentle glow on the balcony, her fingers entwined with her husband's as they spoke of anything that came to mind: the Valley, the birds and flowers, and especially of their three children. But she had no recollection of who her husband or children were, nor where they were when she needed them most.

Celebrian was silent for a moment, but she could feel her chest constricting painfully with each tiny breath she managed. She swallowed some air wrong and coughed. A rusty taste entered her mouth, and she realised she had blood running off the end of her chin and over her cheeks.

'Yes, I will come,' she finally answered the Vala. 'Please help me,' she continued pitifully. 'The pain...' Celebrian trailed off as she stopped breathing.

'In a moment you shall know no pain, no suffering. Come; take my hand and I shall lead you Home.' Mandos' voice was as gentle as the breeze coming from his outstretched hand.

Still Celebrian hesitated. The three voices were speaking in hushed, despairing tones around her and she felt her mouth being opened gently. Then air was being forced into her lungs. _Why are they doing this? Why will they not simply let me die?_

A second light seemed to appear before her eyes, nothing like that of Mandos', and she knew it was the fëa of another, trying to revive her and return her to life. She chose to ignore it and instead turned her eyes back to Mandos, whose hand was still reaching towards her invitingly.

Then the first voice spoke again, but she could not understand what was said, and then one of the voices left the room again. It returned almost immediately with someone else and a cool hand was rested on her cheek, and another rested on her chest over her heart.

Soft words were spoken, first to her, then to the other voices in the room, and then they were again directed to her. A sweet smell filled the room, and it seemed to Celebrían's wandering mind that the sickly smell of pain and death left the room as the clean smell overcame every other scent.

She turned to look again at the hazy grey-black space, and she knew that it was her life. Then she turned back to Mandos, ever patient with her, and she knew that if she left to go with him to his Halls, it would cause overwhelming grief to those who she loved most – and to those who loved her most.

She could not go. She would not go.

She looked again at the inviting hand of Mandos, then met his eyes. 'I am sorry,' she whispered, feeling a spark of life in her body as her heart began to pump blood again. 'I cannot leave my family.'

Even as she spoke, she recognised the sound of the first voice. It was pleading with her to come back to him. Her husband! It was Elrond who had been the first voice, and then the second two voices must have been... two of her children! But what of the third? Where was her third child?

As Arador steadily worked to start Celebrían's heart again, Elrond begged her to heed to Arador and have the will to live.

At first nothing seemed to happen, but then, underneath Arador's hand, he felt the faintest move: a weak heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless. He said nothing for the moment, afraid that it would disappear again and Elrond and his sons' hopes would be dashed upon rocks.

But it did not go away: it continued and got stronger steadily, though gradually. Finally he stopped his constant stream of words to Celebrian long enough to say, 'She lives,' to Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir.

Instantly Elladan and Elrohir were leaning over the bed – Elrond already had been. The twins waited eagerly for their father or Arador to say more. 'Though she shall be weak for many days yet, she should live,' their father finally said.

The twins let out delighted yells before remembering where they were and stopping, encouraged to do so by Elrond's half-hearted glare. Though he did not tell them, Elrond felt like yelling too.

Almost as soon as Celebrian told Mandos she could not go with him, he drew back his hand and replaced it on his breast, bowing his head in Elven style. 'It shall be as you desire,' he said in acceptance.

With no further ado, the light around Celebrian began to dim and the form of the Vala grew smaller as he left her presence. Finally he disappeared completely and Celebrian was again aware of the room she was in, and the pain again surrounding her.

Celebrian now found that she could open her eyes, for already she had regained some of her strength after Elrond and Arador had worked together to save her. At first she could see nothing but blurry figures but then she made out her husband and her two sons and someone she did not recognise for a moment.

Her vision cleared before long and she saw that the other person was a Ranger – in fact, it was Arador, Chieftain of the Dúnedain. She could see the relieved, joyful faces around her, and she attempted to smile weakly at them. But her lips were dry and her mouth did not seem to move very easily. Now she tried to say something, but again her mouth did not obey her brain's commands.

Elrond seemed to notice her difficulty because a cup of something cool was held to her lips. It looked like water, it smelled like water. But you never could tell with Elrond; he was an expert at slipping some kind of herb into an innocent-looking cup of something and giving it to the victim. But she trusted him fully, knowing that he would do what was best for her, so she managed to open her parched lips far enough to let in a sip of the liquid.

It was water, plain cool water which felt marvellous against her mouth and throat. All too soon the cup was emptied and set aside on the table.

Elrond began speaking to her in a low voice so as not to startle her and Celebrian struggled to understand him. He was saying something about her arm and how he must look at it now.

Her arm? Was it injured? Of course; that must be the reason for the constant aching and throbbing she felt! She glanced down at her arm, then back to her husband and gave a slight nod. This encouraged Elrond and his sons greatly, for now they knew that Celebrian understood what they said and was able to respond to them.

Elrond moved to Celebrían's right side and gently unwound the bandage from her upper arm. Though still red, the swelling had gone down and when Elrond squeezed it gently, pure blood oozed out with no black specks in it. 'The poison is overcome,' he announced, his eyes twinkling with delight. 'Her arm should heal normally.'

Arador too looked at the arm and pronounced it uninfected. 'However, I am weary now, for I used more of my strength than I have in a long time. If my lords will excuse me, I shall retire to my room.' His face was indeed grey and his eyes were tired and only showed a dim light.

'Very well, my friend. I cannot thank you enough. If you had not come when you did, I would have lost my wife.' Elrond's eyes shone with tears as he spoke, and his voice was husky.

'You would do no less for my people, of that I am sure,' Arador answered, gripping the doorknob for support. With a bow, he left the room and went back towards his chambers.

Going back to the bed, Elrond found that Celebrian was in a peaceful sleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Putting his hand to her neck, he found a steady pulse and her forehead and arm were cool. She would be alright.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part IX**

Elrohir's violin had been sitting on the shelf where Erestor had placed it so long ago, forgotten, when Erestor noticed it while straightening up the room.

Taking it down, he dusted it off and gently ran the bow over the strings. He winced at the sour notes the violin emitted. After tuning it, he again played a scale, and smiled at the clear, vibrant sound.

He left the room, violin in hand, to search out the owner. As he had expected, Elrohir was engrossed in a book in the library, and he did not look up when Erestor entered.

'Elrohir,' Erestor began, softly, so as not to startle the Elf.

Elrohir glanced up when he heard his name and closed the book. Seeing what Erestor held, he raised his eyebrows. 'Did you want something?'

'You should begin practising again, you know. You shall become rusty.' Erestor ran his hands over the smooth wood and the copper-coloured strings, held taut by the intricate bridge. 'It is a beautiful instrument,' he continued. 'You should play it more.' He again glanced at Elrohir. 'I am sure your mother would enjoy it.'

Elrohir did not answer, instead he reached for the violin. Placing his chin on the wooden chinrest, he played a low, mellow note, then a higher one. 'I have not played it since a couple days before we got the news about Naneth. Where was it?'

'After you and Lindir left, I put the violin on the shelf in the music room, and it as not left that shelf before today.'

'Thank you for bringing it to me,' Elrohir said, rising and returning the book to its place on the shelf. 'Was there anything else you wanted?'

'No, I merely thought you may want to have it again,' Erestor replied.

Elrohir smiled his thanks. 'Then, if you will excuse me, I believe I shall put it away and visit Naneth.' He anticipated Erestor's next words. 'I am hopelessly out of practice. I shall show her in a few days.'

'Very well, my lord,' Erestor replied cheekily. 'It is newly tuned though, so you should not have much trouble.'

After Elrohir left the room, Erestor immediately turned to a shelf of books that had caught his eye during the conversation. The books it held were uneven and messily placed on the shelf. He carefully took each one off, dusted it, and replaced it neatly.

Elrohir gently placed the violin in the chest at the foot of his bed, then left his chamber and made for the healing wing.

It had been three days since Arador had restored Celebrian to life, and already she was beginning to look better.

Being an Elf, the smaller cuts and scrapes had scabbed over; some scabs had already disappeared. The cut on her arm was healing well and her hair was growing swiftly.

When Elrohir entered the room, her eyes were closed. Two of her maidens hovered near the bed. They straightened and curtsied when Elrohir entered, but he just grinned. 'Come, Eldrahel, Ingahild – there is no need to keep up with such pestering formalities in a healing room! I have merely come to see your lady.'

He had barely finished speaking when a laughing Elf appeared in the doorway. Her sparkling eyes fell on the ellyth and she beckoned them over. 'Master Elrond wishes to speak to the two of you in his study.' She glanced at Elrohir. 'I am entrusting you with your mother's life, for the other maidens are busy.'

The three Elves swept gracefully out of the room and Elrohir turned back to the bed, happily surprised to see his mother watching with clear eyes. 'Naneth!' He bent and kissed her cheek gently.

His mother inspected him grimly. 'You look well, my son. And happy. Tell me, is it because Meldreth skipped over the pestering formality of curtseying to you?'

'No,' Elrohir began to reply, when he realised what his other had said. 'You were awake for the whole time, were you not?'

Celebrian gave a soft laugh. 'I have not slept for the past hour at least,' she admitted. 'And yet I have not been bored. The topics of conversation Eldrahel and Ingahild chose were intriguing to me, as a woman – and a mother.'

She laughed again at Elrohir's confused countenance, but shook her head stubbornly when he opened his mouth to inquire after the meaning of her words. 'Nay, nay I shall say no more.'

Elrohir changed the subject. 'How are you? You look much better than you did a few days ago!'

Celebrían's eyes took on a distant look. 'That is a question better asked of your father, I think. He would know better than I.'

'No, I mean, how do you feel? Does your arm hurt? Are you dizzy?' Elrohir asked every health-concerned question that came to mind, stopping only when his mother laughed.

'I know you are concerned, my dear. But there is hardly any need to be so. My arm feels like your father has healed it, and so he has. I am not dizzy, but I am hungry. Go ask your–'

She broke off in mid-sentence when the door opened and Ingahild entered. In her hands, she bore a tray on which a glass a bowl sat, steam rising in a tantalising way from the bowl.

'– Adar to bring me something,' she murmured, finishing her sentence.

But when she took the tray from her maid, all eagerness faded from her face. 'Porridge!' she cried in scorn. No longer did the steam make her mouth water; instead it made the greyish, lumpy-looking food seem even more uneatable.

'Take the porridge back to where it came from, Ingahild. Elrond will know what is proper for me to eat.'

'Excuse me, my lady, but it was Lord Elrond who prescribed this meal for you. It was for this reason that he called Eldrahel and me into his study: to give us strict instructions concerning your diet.'

'My husband? Porridge? Well, so be it.' Celebrian dutifully spooned a portion of the slimy mixture into her mouth. Though she knew it was probably not helpful for Elrohir to see, she could not help giving a violent shudder after swallowing it. It was Elrohir's turn to laugh, though he stopped abruptly when his mother turned a scathing gaze on him.

'This is exactly what you do whenever we have porridge for breakfast, Peredhil, so no insolent behaviour, thank you!'

Elrohir bowed elaborately, then walked to the window. 'I should go. I have not polished a single piece of armour today and the cellar is still waiting for Elladan and me.'

'What have you done now?' Celebrian asked. She would never have guessed that her sons would deliberately go against their father's orders, and so was shocked at Elrohir's stammered reply.

'I – you do not know? Ladan and I... We disobeyed Adar. After we found out that you had not reached Lórien, we begged him to allow us to go after you, but he refused. We went anyways, and committed several other misdeeds he of course found out about.'

Celebrian paled visibly. 'And now you are set to polishing armour?'

'Yes, and cleaning the cellar afterwards.' Elrohir's voice remained nonchalant, but inside his heart sank at the thought of attempting to clear the cellar of all the dust and cobwebs and barrels.

'And your brother?'

'He has to write reports for Adar. I am sorry, I thought you knew.' Elrohir bowed his head, thoroughly ashamed of himself.

'Well, I will not say I am proud or pleased with your behaviour; in truth, I am disappointed with the two of you. But if you are to polish the armour, then indeed you must go.' She raised a thin hand, pulling Elrohir to her. Placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head, she whispered into his ear, 'Run along now, títhen ernil nin.'

In the hallway, Elrohir met Elrond. 'She was not pleased with your choice of food,' Elrohir said playfully. 'Ingahild made a hasty retreat after giving her the tray and explaining who ordered it to be brought.'

'She is not used to being the victim of your mother's tongue, I suppose,' Elrond replied. 'But I am, and I do not fear it. Where are you headed?'

'To the armoury,' sighed his son. 'Why?'

'I thought you might. Pay more attention to the tops and bottoms of the breastplates. They are only just passable. It took a lot of convincing on my part to keep Glorfindel from making you redo them.'

Elrohir grinned his thanks. 'I am not even halfway done, and it has been days since I began.'

'Then get along,' Elrond said, flicking his hand at Elrohir.

Elrohir hummed to himself as he polished. He was in a light mood today: the day was beautiful, with a blue sky, birds singing, and Elves laughing and going about their duties. But best of all, Celebrian was going to be alright. Even now, she was steadily regaining her strength.

All was not completely well, though. There were times when Elrond or his sons would enter the room to find her lying rigid. Her wide, unseeing eyes would be dark in her ashen face: sometimes she would be moaning, other times, her mouth would be open in a silent scream – or not so silent.

No matter that her body had been healed. Her soul and mind had been permanently scarred by the traumatic event and it left painful and terrible memories.

Elrohir cast these dark, gloomy thoughts from his mind. Why mediate on them when he could instead recall how happy his mother usually was on these sorts of days. She would dream of working in her gardens all day, or organizing a family picnic. Whatever she did, she made every person in Imladris feel like Imladris was a second Valinor.

'Elrohir!'

Elrohir started at the sound of his name being called. His hand slipped and he cut his thumb on a sharp edge of the helmet he was currently working on. 'Ai!' he gasped in surprise.

Glorfindel – who had called Elrohir's name – stepped out of one of the aisles at the sound. 'Are you alright, Elrohir?'

'Yeth,' lisped Elrohir around the thumb in his mouth.

'What happened?'

'You surprised me. I did not notice you come in.' Elrohir went back to the helmet.

'I know. You were staring off into space when I entered. I called you twice but you only noticed me after the second time.'

'Did you want something of me?' Elrohir asked.

'Nay, nothing. I merely wanted to come in to fetch more sword polish.'

Elrohir wrinkled his nose. He gestured toward the pot of polish beside him. 'This stuff is nearly unbearable when you first smell it – or until you smell the sword polish. Once you smell the sword polish, you begin to wonder if the armour polish is perhaps nothing more than a rose, rather past its prime.'

Glorfindel laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. 'You _are_ amusing, penneth,' he finally said.

'That is the trouble,' pouted Elrohir in mock annoyance. 'We seem to always be amusing when we do not want tot be so, and when we do wish to be amusing, we never are.'

'Do not be foolish–' Glorfindel began.

'There! I meant that to be amusing and you take it as solemnly as Erestor takes his job as a tutor.

Glorfindel chuckled, then stopped abruptly. 'Forgive me, Elrohir. Did you mean that in earnest or jest?'

Elrohir muttered, 'In earnest,' from between clenched teeth. Straightening, he saw Glorfindel's pleasant, smiling face with its laughing features. 'You cruel work of Morgoth!' he cried, hurling the polish-covered rag at the older Elf.

Glorfindel leapt nimbly aside, and the rag fell harmlessly to the cobblestone floor.

'I would retrieve it for you, but I deem it unsafe and unwise to approach you at the moment.' So saying, Glorfindel grinned and sauntered out the door, sword polish in hand.

After rescuing the cloth from the floor, Elrohir resumed his job, his thoughts again drifting.

Meanwhile, Elladan sat before his desk in his room, working on yet another report. His father had ordered Elrohir to do his own work, and let Elladan do his, so Elrohir no longer helped with the writing.

'With most others, we could merely pretend to be each other, and no one would be the wiser. After all, you like writing reports and I like working in the armouries, so it would be perfect,' groused Elladan one day to Elrohir. 'But Adar would immediately recognise us.'

Elrohir simply smiled in reply.

He dipped his quill in the inkpot for the hundredth time (or so it seemed to Elladan) and continued writing. 'The patrol on the West borders, lead by Lord Glorfindel, was partially successful. Two Orc dens were found, evacuated, and a third, was currently in use. The Orcs were all slaughtered and the cave was searched. Every opening into the cave was then sealed.

'The patrol on the East borders was uneventful. Lead by Hérion Meldarion, the Eastern Woods were combed for previously reported de-banded Orc companies, but they came across nothing.

The door to his room opened and Elladan turned to see his father standing just inside the doorway. 'Are the reports completed yet, Elladan?' he inquired, walking to the desk.

'No, not quite,' replied his son. 'I am working on the last one. Here are two, one on the Guard, and one on Glorfindel's troll and Orc hunts.'

'And this one is on...' Elrond glanced at the unfinished paper on Elladan's desk. 'The patrols.'

Elladan nodded. 'I am sorry it is overdue. I shall finish it before this evening, I promise.'

'If you please.' Elrond turned to leave, the two finished reports in his hand.

'Adar.'

He turned back. 'Yes, Elladan?'

'How is Naneth?'

'She is resting right now. She is weak still, more so than I like, and the memories and nightmares are plaguing her so that she is not getting good rest.

'Oh,' Elladan said. A lump of worry began to form in his stomach. _They had been so sure Celebrian would recover. Were their hopes going to be brutally dashed?_ 'What of Arwen? Surely Naneth would thrive if Arwen returned.'

'I have thought of that. I have had a message from your Daernaneth. Arwen is returning, 'whether we like it or no,' in the message's words.'

Elladan stood up, beaming, and moved towards his father. Suddenly he paused in mid-step. His face lost its joyous countenance and paled.

'The Pass! She will have to go through the Redhorn Pass, Adar.' He clenched his fists.

'I have thought of that, also,' Elrond said calmly, though inwardly he shared some of Elladan's feelings.

That afternoon at dinner though, Elrond entered the dining room slowly, his face troubled. Glorfindel and Erestor, who often joined the Peredhil family at mealtimes, and the twins followed him with their eyes, concern plain in every feature.

'Are you alright?' Erestor finally asked.

'I am fine,' Elrond answered as he sat down. 'My heart fears for Arwen. One of the patrols has returned from the Mountains. They fought four large bands of Orcs within six days, and lost half their warriors. I am afraid that the Pass is yet unsafe, and that Arwen and Celebrían's parents have already set out for it.'

'But if that is the case,' Elrohir burst out, 'One of our messengers shall not reach Lórien before the party reaches the Pass. There shall be no way of warning them.'

'No, indeed,' Elrond smiled grimly. 'I wonder if our messenger would even get to the Golden Wood. After all, he too would have to take the Mountain Pass to get to the Woods soon enough.'

Elladan joined in the conversation. 'We cannot simply stay here and _let_ them run into the Orcs. We must _do_ something, Adar, at once!'

'We must and we will,' Elrond agreed. He fixed the twins with a stern gaze. 'But you two are not the ones to do it.'

'But Adar, she is our sister!'

'We have to go!' The twins, as was usual at times like this, completed the other's thoughts.

'As Celebrian is your mother. You gave me this same argument the day you left to go after Naneth. There is no use in doing so a second time. You two are staying here, in my sight.'

Elladan and Elrohir shared a heated look.

'Is that clear to you both?' Elrond pressed.

The twins returned their gazes to their father. 'Yes, Adar,' they chorused.

'Very well. Glorfindel.' He turned to his seneschal. 'You will take another two score men into the mountains again, will you not?'

Glorfindel inclined his head. 'If you so command it, my lord.'

'I do so. Depart on the morrow. Leave none that you come across alive.'

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

Glorfindel excused himself to prepare for his unexpected patrol, and Erestor offered to help gather the warriors he would take with him.

'As for you two,' Elrond addressed his twins. 'I think I would like your company in my study this afternoon.'

'The whole afternoon?' Elladan asked, slightly timidly.

'The whole afternoon,' Elrond confirmed. 'I thought I could trust you before but apparently I could not. I am not going to make that mistake again.'

Elladan and Elrohir sighed, preparing themselves for a long afternoon.

After the three Elves finished eating, they made their way to Elrond's study. As they passed Elladan's bedroom, he went in and grabbed his current report.

'Not finished yet?' Elrond said, an eyebrow raised, as he recognised what Elladan was holding.

'That is why I am taking it. After all, I said it would be done by this evening. I still have plenty of time.'

'Time that you should not have needed. It was due yesterday morning.' Elrond let the matter lie at that.

In the study, Elrond began on his paperwork, Elladan on his report, and Elrohir flopped down unceremoniously on the couch. A moment later, he stood and walked to the window. The sky was no longer blue. It was a dull grey, and the sun did not show through the thick blanket of clouds. As Elrohir took in the area visible from the window, raindrops began to fall, pattering against the roof and windowpanes.

Elrohir heaved a sigh and turned from the window.

'Elladan–'

'Shush, I am writing.'

'Adar?'

'What is it, Elrohir?'

'There is nothing to do. May I go see Naneth?'

Elladan's head jerked up from his paper, looking from his brother to his father and back to Elrohir.

'You may not. She will be sleeping for a while. Read a book or something. There are plenty to choose from.' Elrond went back to his work.

Elrohir wandered over to the bookshelves and chose a volume. Again he sat on the couch and read for nearly an hour. Finally, Elladan rose from where he had been sitting writing, placed the completed report on his father's desk and went to sit by Elrohir.

He lifted the book so that he could see the title. _Quenya and Sindarin_. He wrinkled his nose. 'Why are you reading _that_? I thought you hated learning Quenya.'

'I did. I am merely looking at the pictures.'

There came a suspicious sounding cough from Elrond and Elladan and Elrohir looked over at him.

'Is something wrong, Adar?' Elrohir asked innocently.

'Oh no, nothing at all besides the fact that my two thousand, four hundred eighty year old son is looking at the pictures instead of reading the book properly.'

'Perhaps he is tired of reading about Quenya and Sindarin in Quenya and Sindarin after toiling for two thousand, four hundred eighty years, trying to learn them,' Elrohir replied, grinning. He went back to looking at the pictures, leaving Elrond to continue signing documents.

 **Translations**

Tithen ernil nin – My little prince

 **A/N:** So, what do you think is going to happen to Arwen? Will Glorfy reach them in time? Take a guess!


	10. Chapter 10

**Part X**

Elrohir set his third book aside. All his favourites were in the library, but his father would not give in to his pleading.

He began to slowly pace around the study, eyes cast downwards in boredom and depression.

He stared piercingly at Elladan for some moments, hoping to catch his attention. Elladan was in the midst of a book on swordfighting, and either did not notice Elrohir or chose to ignore him.

Resuming his wandering, he sighed. Glancing out of the rain-covered window, he saw that there was still no sign of the sun.

'Merciful Valar, Ro, would you sit down?' Elladan cried out at last. 'You are distracting me to no end.'

'What is there to distract you?' He walked over and read the title of Elladan's book. 'I will sit down if you will tell me where that book was.'

'My room,' Elladan replied bluntly, taking Elrohir's wrist and yanking him down to the couch.

'What?' Elrohir asked, confused. 'You went to your room?' He looked accusingly at Elrond, who smiled in an infuriating manner.

Elladan found this chance too good to pass up. 'Yes,' he lied. 'I am sorry Elrohir. I am afraid that Adar trusts me more than he does you. Not that you should be surprised. I am, after all, older, and as such, more mature.' Elladan finished his little speech with a pitying shake of his head.

'Elladan,' drawled Elrond warningly. He turned to Elrohir, who seemed not quite sure of what to believe. 'Do not pay attention to what he says, Elrohir. Erestor fetched it for him.' He turned to Elladan. 'And as for the subject of maturity, I am not completely certain of which one of you is more mature; but at the moment, Elrohir is taking on the role of the mature older brother, while you are acting like the child who got to bed too late last night.'

'Well, I did,' admitted Elladan after a moment. He had not expected Elrond to take sides.

'Erestor fetched it for him? When?' Elrohir inquired. He did not remember anyone else being in the study besides his brother and father.

'He did indeed. You were so engrossed in your book that you neither heard nor saw him. As he was leaving, your brother asked him to stop by his room and fetch a book, for Erestor planned to return anyways after a moment.'

Elrohir released a long breath. He walked to his father's desk and knelt down beside his father's chair. 'Adar,' he began in a convincing tone. 'May I please go to your library to find a book? I swear I shall return; if I do not, you have my permission to kill me in cold blood.'

Both twins were experts at manipulating their parents into getting what they wanted, and Elrond was obviously weakening.

Just when Elrohir was sure Elrond would say 'yes,' Elladan broke in. 'Let me go with him, Adar. I will make sure that he does not leave.'

Elrond, as Elladan had expected, instantly shook his head. 'Nay, certainly not both of you. Elrohir, I am sure that you can find something to amuse yourself in here. I believe _The Tale of Beren and Lúthien_ is still where you left it several weeks ago.'

'No, I brought it back. Adar–'

'Elrohir, I have work to do. Please.' Elrond interrupted. 'The better behaved you are, the sooner you shall regain my trust.' As he finished speaking, he fondly tugged one of Elrohir's braids. Elrohir took it as a dismissal.

'You wrecked it, Elladan. I am sure that he would have said 'yes' if you had not spoken just then.' Elrohir sat down and snatched the book from Elladan.

'Ro! That is mine! I am reading it!' Elladan exclaimed, mindful of his father who had again returned his attention to the documents.

'Not anymore, muindor. Now it is my turn.' Elrohir had an idea as he spoke. 'I was going to suggest to Adar that we go to the library now – after all, both of us want to go – since there is a desk there that he can use.' Though he addressed his brother, he gazed at his father, who looked up from his parchment.

'Were you speaking to me, penneth?' he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

Elrohir noddd. 'To both of you, really. Can we not go, Adar? You can continue your work and Elladan and I can find some real books.'

At this moment, there came a knock on the study door.

'Enter!' called Elrond.

Erestor entered again. 'Lady Celebrian has awoken, my lords. I thought you may want to know.'

'Already?' muttered Elrond. 'Come along then, Elrohir, Elladan, let us go to Naneth, then the library. Thank you for telling us, Erestor.'

The four Elves left the study, Erestor shutting the door softly behind him.

Celebrian was indeed awake, propped up on her pillows. She smiled when they entered and Elrond felt his heart grow warm. If Celebrian was smiling, then surely all would be well.

The family spoke of trivial matters at first, then the conversation turned to Arwen. Celebrian inquired after her whereabouts.

'Do you not remember?' began Elladan. 'She is in Lórien. You were going to join her.' He stopped abruptly as his shin received a painful kick from his twin. 'Ouch!'

Elrohir sent him a scathing look; then turned back to their mother. 'She shall come in due time, Naneth. Do not fear.'

'I miss her terribly. I am sure that it would do me no end of good if I saw her again.' Celebrian looked pointedly at her husband, who cleared his throat nervously.

'Well, Celebrian, so far most of the scout parties we have sent out have not returned. Until they do and I have their reports, we cannot be sure that the Pass is safe. I shall not risk the well-being of my children,' he said firmly.

' _Our_ children,' corrected Celebrian, just as firmly. 'I understand. I see why you are being cautious.' She sent a stern look towards her two sons, remembering her earlier conversation with Elrohir.

'Yes, well,' Elladan said abruptly. _There is no need for Naneth to get riled and assign a worse punishment than Adar already has. She was always more difficult to get around than Adar was._

Elrond laughed. 'That has all been dealt with, as far as I am concerned, Elladan, unless you do it again, and if you do I shall have to take extreme measures.' He laughed again – and this time Celebrian laughed with him – as the twins grimaced at the very thought of what their father and mother would think up if they dared to defy Elrond again any time soon.

Celebrian was growing weary again, and before long, Elrond insisted that he and the twins leave so that she could sleep in peace. True to his word, Elrond made his way to the library, stopping in the study only to gather his papers, a quill and some ink. Elladan and Elrohir immediately sat down with 'real books' as Elrohir had called them, while Elrond began with his paperwork.

Meanwhile, the Lórien party was already making its way into the Misty Mountains. They had sent scouts through them already, and they had all returned with the same report: no signs of Orcs had been found except for the blood-covered rocks where the battle had been.

Encouraged by this report, they started into the Mountains. All was quiet until the fourth day after entering them. In the mid-afternoon, they were waylaid by a large pack of Orcs. The women had been ordered by Celeborn to take the horses and ride with all haste to Rivendell, while the men took care of the enemy.

But the horses, mad with fright and confusion, threw their riders and bolted. As the women struggled to escape, the Orcs shot into their midst, killing several and injuring more.

The Orcs slowly but surely drove the Elves back. The battle would have gone ill if there had not come to the Elves' ears a great beating of wings and many furious cries from a host of eagles. They were lead by none other than Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles, and his three sons.

Gwaihir swooped down and caught up Galadriel and Arwen in his talons. Ten of the other eagles did likewise, and so, by the time the Orcs were again aware of what was happening, the eagles – most of them – were sweeping away with the Orcs' prey safely in their deadly grasps.

Four eagles had not taken up Elves, and had instead stayed to help fight the Orcs. They flew screaming above the foul creatures, picking them up and letting them fall through the air, to smash on the sharp rocks hundreds of feet below.

Before long, the last Orc had been killed and the four eagles, helped by another three who had returned after bringing their burdens safely to Imladris, bore the weary Elves to the Haven, too.

Elrond was waiting in the main courtyard, Arwen and Galadriel at his side. When Celeborn's eagle had set him safely down on the ground, Galadriel walked sedately over to him. Reaching up, she took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead, then moved to whisper something into his ear. He replied, also in a whisper, and kissed the delicate fingers which he held clasped in his hand.

Elrond, seeing this, felt a lump in his throat. Why couldn't this have happened before as well? Why didn't the eagles come when Celebrian was captured and rescued her as they had his daughter and mother-in-law?

His daughter! He had forgotten she was there. He took her in his arms and pressed his lips to the top of her head. 'My Evenstar,' he murmured into her hair. He found that it was difficult getting words past the ever-growing lump in his throat. 'I could have lost you, too.'

'You have lost no one, Adar nin. Naneth is alive and doing well. Daernaneth and I are unharmed.'

'You said some were killed,' Elrond continued, pulling back so he could see Arwen's face. 'About how many, would you say?'

'Five or six at the most. We shall find out before long. Even now the eagles are bringing the injured and the dead.'

Once the eagles had laid down the bodies of the dead Elves, they came to stand in front of Elrond. 'I thank you yet again for another favour, mellyn nin,' Elrond said, laying a hand on Gwaihir's magnificent neck and moving his eyes from one eagle to the next. 'I owe you a debt which I may never be able to repay.'

Arwen, Galadriel and Celeborn added their heart-felt thanks to Elrond's and all four watched as the eagles took flight.

As they entered the House once more, Arwen's eyes glinted for a moment. 'Elladan and Elrohir shall be envious,' she said aloud.

Before the other three could reply, the twins skidded around the corner, eyes wide. 'Adar, did Arwen _really_ get to fly with the eagles?' cried Elladan.

Elrond laughed. Arwen seemed to have inherited his gift of foresight. 'Why do you not ask your sister?' he stepped aside to let Arwen forward.

When she just stood there, demurely waiting for them to say something, Elrohir burst out, 'Well? Did you?'

Now Arwen laughed. 'I really am too weary to be answering questions right now. I believe I shall bathe, then rest, then have dinner. Perhaps I shall tell you in the Hall of Fire, hmm?'

She began to walk by them when she was grabbed by both twins. 'Tell us now!'

'Please, sister!'

Elrond, noticing that Arwen was slightly paler than usual, broke in. 'Elrohir, Elladan, perhaps Arwen is right. Maybe she should wait with the tale.'

'But–'

'But–'

Elrond turned to Galadriel and Celeborn. 'Your grandparents were there with Arwen – why not ask them?'

Arwen took pity on her two brothers. 'Nay, 'tis alright, Adar. Yes, I rode with Gwaihir, as did Daernaneth. It was like nothing that has ever happened to me before. That is all I shall say at the present.' With that, she swept on down the hall, paying no more attention to her gaping siblings.

'Elladan, Elrohir, do shut your mouths,' said Galadriel calmly. 'It is most unbecoming to you as your father's sons.'

The twins obliged, then ran for the door as the three eagles returned, bearing two injured warriors and five women.

Elrond, his father-in-law, and his sons bore the wounded inside after thanking the great birds, and took them immediately to the healing wing.

Elrond concentrated his healing abilities on the two warriors. One had a severe cut on his thigh and a not-so-serious stab wound to his abdomen. Luckily, the Orc's sword was not poisoned and had not hit any vital organs.

The other one was more difficult to work on. He had an arrow in his back and his side had been viciously sliced into by a dirk. Three ribs had been broken by a club, and one was pressing into his left lung, threatening to puncture it.

Three of the ellyth were dead. The remaining two were not seriously injured. Both of them had been shot, one in the shoulder and one in the arm, but both were suffering more from the poison than the actual wound.

Their injuries were easily cleaned and bound by the healers, while Elladan and Elrohir assisted their father with the warriors.

All of a sudden, the door crashed open and Celeborn appeared behind it. He and his wife had gone to visit their daughter upon seeing that the recently-injured were well taken care of.

'Elrond, you must come at once – Celebrian is having a fit of some sort,' Celeborn snapped, and the twins and Elrond saw panic in his eyes, something which only appeared if he was terrified.

Elrond hesitated only to give out brisk orders. 'Elladan, Elrohir. I want you two to stay here and keep monitoring these two.'

Elladan began to protest, as Elrohir had known he would. 'Adar, we want to see Naneth –'

Before Elrond could answer, Celeborn spoke from beside Elrond. 'Nay, you should be glad that you are staying here. Elrond!' Grabbing Elrond by the arm, he unceremoniously pulled the Elven-lord from the room.

Upon entering the hallway with Celebrían's room, Elrond and Celeborn could hear the wild, terrified screams of Celebrian. Opening the door, they beheld a terrible sight: Celebrian was sitting up on her bed, screaming uncontrollably, stopping only to moan and cry for help. Her waving arms made it difficult for Galadriel to try to comfort her. Finally Galadriel sat back, thinking perhaps her actions were not helping: perhaps Celebrian took her for a clawing Orc and fought to defend herself. Now her mother sat still, but her mouth never stopped emitting soft, soothing Elvish words.

Celeborn went to his wife and Elrond went to his. She – Celebrian – appeared unaware of his presence for the moment. This was as Elrond had hoped. Quietly, he slipped behind her.

Before she noticed him, Elrond threw his arms around her and pulled her to him in a firm but gentle embrace. He was surprised at her strength and her vicious attempts to escape from his arms. 'Celebrian,' he called gently.

At the sound of his voice calling her name, Celebrian seemed to calm down. Again Elrond bent his head down, this time to whisper in her ear.

He was taken by surprise. Celebrian jerked her head back suddenly and violently. The back of her skull made solid contact with Elrond's jaw, snapping his head back and causing his teeth to come firmly together with his tongue in between them.

Blood began to gush from his nose and before long his mouth was full of the rusty-tasting liquid.

The pain was nearly overwhelming. Celebrian easily wrenched herself out of her husband's arms, only to find herself in her father's.

'Celebrian, iel-nin, calm down. Sîdth... you are safe now, child. There is no need for this fear,' Celeborn crooned to Celebrian.

'Are you alright, Elrond?' asked Galadriel, concerned when Elrond did not open his eyes which he had shut, hoping to block out some of the pain.

In answer, Elrond leaned over a bowl on the night table and spat the blood out of his mouth. Though his tongue was numb, Elrond's split lips and cut cheek were causing him agony, his chin felt like it ought to be shattered, and his nose ached in an almost unimaginable manner.

He glanced at his still-writhing wife in her father's arms and Galadriel, who had moved to sit beside him and was now regarding him sympathetically. Again he lunged for the bowl, this time expelling the contents of his stomach into it. The sight of his twitching wife, coupled with the fact that he had swallowed nearly a mouthful of blood before spitting more into the bowl was enough to make the strongest Elf nauseous.

Galadriel rose and went to the washstand where there was a full pitcher of cool water and a cup. Filling it, she returned to her son-in-law.

Nodding his thanks, Elrond took the cup and drained it. Putting the empty cup on the table, he gave Galadriel a small smile. 'Thank you and forgive me, I–'

Galadriel's finger on his swollen lips stayed any forthcoming explanation.

They both looked over to Celebrian and her father, sighing inwardly in relief. Celebrian, finally tired out after her struggles against her father's arms, had fallen asleep, deeply and quietly, though every now and then her breath caught in her throat.

Moving their daughter back to lie comfortably upon the bed proved to be no problem. She showed no signs of even having felt the movement. 'You should return to the warriors, ion-nin,' Celeborn said. 'Have no fear. You mother and I shall stay here. We shall call you if anything changes. You might get your jaw looked at.'

Elrond glanced in a small mirror. His chin was red and showed signs of bruising already. He had two swollen, obviously split lips, and his mouth was stained from the nosebleed, which had thankfully stopped almost immediately. 'The twins will have a fit,' he muttered to himself as he walked down the hallway after washing his face gingerly.

No one noticed him for a moment when he re-entered the main healing wing.

Now only the two warriors remained there; the two ellyth had been moved to separate chambers. Everyone was gathered around the bed of the more severely-injured warrior.

'What is the matter?' he asked abruptly, coming nearer so he could see. It was difficult to speak with his throbbing lips and tongue, the latter of which was definitely cut as well.

'He had a coughing fit,' Elrohir answered. 'The force of it made the ribs puncture his lung. He just died a moment ago.' He raised stricken eyes to his father. He seemed to remember why Elrond had left. 'Is Naneth al–'

He stopped in mid-sentence. 'What happened to you?'

All the healers looked up to see what was wrong, and to his chagrin, Elrond felt heat rising in his aching face.

'I will tell you later,' Elrond said shortly, deciding that not everyone needed to know. 'Do not blame yourselves overmuch for Dereth's death. He must have struck his head violently on a rock, for he had pressure on the brain. There was little any of us could have done.'

He moved to the remaining warrior. 'This one, however, should recover fully. He should remain here for another three days at the least, and be watched at all times. Is that clear?'

The healers responded in the affirmative and Elrond turned to Elladan and Elrohir, who were preparing to remove the body. 'Elladan, Elrohir, come with me.'

The twins obediently followed their father out the door. He led them to his bedchamber in silence. It was becomingly increasingly painful to speak.

Once inside the room, Elladan could keep silent no longer. 'Adar, tell us. What happened to you?'

'Truly, you do look awful,' added on Elrohir.

'Thank you,' replied Elrond sarcastically.

Elladan and Elrohir settled themselves on Elrond and Celebrían's king-sized bed.

'Your Naneth was having a fit, as you Daeradar said. She would not let your Daernaneth or Daeradar come near her. She was screaming and thrashing around, sitting up on the bed. I managed to get behind her without her noticing, but when she did, I guess she thought I was an Orc, trying to torment her.' Elrond's eyes closed, the pain in his heart ten times worse than that in his body. 'She jerked her head back – right into mine. I do not understand how I did not lose any teeth. As it is, I am going to have a bruised chin, two fat lips, a swollen tongue and a sore cheek for days, not to mention a tender nose.'

Elrohir was at a loss for words. 'Will she be alright?' he finally managed.

'She finally fell asleep. Galadriel and Celeborn are staying with her, to ward off nightmares and memories.' Elrond sighed and sat down in between the twins.

'I thought she was getting better though,' puzzled Elladan.

'Even when that seems so, it is impossible to try to hide from the knowledge that she shall have some bad days,' Elrond replied. 'However, with her whole family here – including her parents – she should recuperate more quickly.'

'Could her fits – depending on the severity of them – become life-threatening, or reduce her to that state?' Elrohir inquired.

'They could, in all likeliness. That is why she also must be constantly watched.' Elrond broke off sharply as a wave of pain washed over his face.

'Are you alright, Adar?' Elrohir asked as his father moaned and rubbed his chin gently.

'I am fine, ion-nin. You two will be lucky if you require lectures in the next few days. They shall be nowhere near as long as they usually are.' It was a weak attempt at humour, but at least it was something. The twins had been relatively cheerful since they had been told that their mother would survive, and he did not want this incident to change that.

Elladan and Elrohir grinned, but inwardly they could not see how their father possibly expected them to get into mischief at this time.

'I think you have little to fear from us, Adar,' Elladan assured his father and Elrohir nodded his agreement. 'We shall be far too busy to misbehave.'

There came a knock on the door and all three Elves tensed. At Elrond's bidding, the door was opened and Arwen entered.

'Glorfindel said I might find you here,' she said, shutting the door behind her. 'What happened? No one would tell me anything.'

'Naneth had a fit,' Elladan responded bluntly.

'A-a _fit_?' gasped Arwen. 'Why? I thought she was recovering!'

'She had a relapse, iel nin,' Elrond replied. 'The memories are vivid yet, and at times they seem to come alive. Her head hit my face,' he explained when he saw Arwen's startled countenance.

Everything was explained to Arwen, who then left to join her grandparents and mother. Elladan and Elrohir also stood up to depart. 'Do you want our help with anything, Adar?' Elrohir asked.

'Nay, I shall be fine. Are you headed anywhere in particular?' As he spoke, Elrond moved to his dresser, where a small jar sat on the top. He uncorked it, dipped his second finger in and touched it to his tongue.

Almost immediately, his tongue seemed to lose the feeling that it was three times its normal size.

Elladan replied, his face brightening. 'The cellar.' He glanced at Elrohir, who also had a look of excitement on his face.

'I am glad you are enjoying your punishment this much. I remember that Elrohir did not look enthusiastic when I told him about it,' Elrond said wryly.

Elrohir blushed, still ashamed of his behaviour nearly a week before. 'Ladan was no better than I was – in that way, at any rate. He ranted for so long I began to wonder if I should subtly ring the bell and ask the maid to plan to have dinner brought to us in his room.'

It was Elladan's turn to redden, and he mock-growled at his twin, 'Keep your teeth together, Rohir.'

Elrohir grinned. Baring his teeth, he replied, 'Just as you say, my brother. They are together – but I can still speak.' He turned to Elrond again, who was trying to keep a straight face. He continued, teeth still firmly clamped together. 'And then, Adar–'

'–And then I gagged you.' Elladan finished the sentence off triumphantly, hands placed tightly over Elrohir's mouth.

Elrohir laughed and ducked down out of his brother's teasing restraint. 'Right,' he said. 'Let us be off, Elladan.'

As they opened the door, Elrond said suddenly, 'Wait. What are you planning to do in the cellar?'

'Clean up, of course,' replied Elladan, his face a picture of innocence.

'And what else?' pressed his father sternly.

'Welll, we have a number of contests between the two of us planned,' Elrohir replied, glancing back. 'Is that all?'

'Yes, yes, run along,' Elrond said, beginning to feel defeated.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part XI**

As the twins' voices disappeared down the hallway, Elrond sank down on the edge of the dresser. 'Ai, Valar,' he moaned, addressing the jar of ointment as though it were Manwë in one of his many forms. 'How am I to last till Celebrian is well enough to help me keep them in hand?'

He turned around so he could see in the mirror. 'You are a mess,' he muttered to his reflection. He dipped his fingers into the ointment and gently rubbed the healing balm into his bruised face.

Arwen ran in a moment later, panicked eyes staring out of a pale face. 'Adar, she is doing it again! Please, come quickly!'

The jar slipped from Elrond's unfeeling fingers and smashed on the floor, ointment and glass spraying across the room. He must have frozen where he was, because he suddenly felt his hand being grabbed and then his legs started to move.

This fit was even worse than the first one. Celebrian had managed to evade her parents and had escaped from the bed. She was now backed into a corner, allowing no one to come near her.

Galadriel and Celeborn were standing helplessly some feet away from her, while Arwen was sobbing wildly at her father's side.

'Arwen, return to your room this instant; do not leave it until I tell you you may. If you meet your brothers, tell them to do the same. Leave, child. You should not see such a thing as this.' Elrond shoved her gently towards the door; then turned and joined his father- and mother-in-law.

'She will let no one approach her,' Galadriel said softly.

Celebrian was now screaming, only taking a gasping breath when she had to, and then holding it for an inhuman amount of time.

'We cannot very well let her exhaust herself this way,' Elrond responded. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears.

'What else do you propose to do?' snapped Celeborn.

'I do not know,' Elrond said in a strangled voice, arms spread out in a gesture of defeat.

The door flew open and the twins appeared. Their faces were stamped with pure terror and anger.

'Arwen said... she was fitting again,' gasped Elrohir, out of breath.

'You spoke to Arwen? Did she not also give you my order?' inquired Elrond, not in the mood to deal with his stubborn sons.

Elladan stepped forwards. 'We did not suppose you were serious, Adar. How can you expect us to go to our rooms when Naneth is like this?'

Elrond's eyes flashed, but his attention was drawn back to his wife when Galadriel touched his arm. 'Elrond, look. Celebrian is saying something.'

Celebrían had suddenly stopped screaming. Now her lips were moving, repeating one word over and over again.

Elrond copied her lip-movements and a moment later, he cried out in surprise and hope. 'Elrond!' he announced triumphantly. Nonetheless, he made sure to approach her slowly lest he frighten her more.

Kneeling down beside her, he murmured into her ear, the earlier fit's incident forgotten. 'I am here, melleth-nin. Hush, Celebrian. I have you now, and I shall never let you go. Try to calm yourself, my Star.'

Celebrian, hearing his voice, opened her eyes, fear shining from them. 'No...' she croaked. 'You are not my husband. You are one of them! Leave me alone... Elrond, where are you? Why will you not come to me?'

'Celebrian–' Elrond began, his voice broken. 'I _am_ Elrond. I _am_ your husband and I _am_ here to help you. You must trust me!'

'Trust?' Celebrían cackled. 'You ask me to _trust_ you, the one who has tormented me, leaving me no peace, ever since I came into your hands? I will trust none but my husband. My people sat idly in their comfortable homes while I was held by you, my daughter left me and she shall not return to me, my sons abandoned me to torture, not caring what I was put through.'

Elladan caught his breath as Elrohir let out a gasp at the accusations their mother placed before them.

Elrond's eyes did not leave his wife's face as he forced himself to steady his voice and address his twins. 'Elladan, Elrohir, leave us at once. Either go to your chambers or leave the House for an hour. Do not cross Imladris' boundaries. Am I understood?'

'Adar, we want to stay,' cried Elladan. 'You–'

Before he could finish, Celeborn's hands came down on his shoulders. Both he and Elrohir were yanked out of the room into the hallway.

'Now you listen to me, both of you,' hissed their grandfather, pronouncing his words with deadly accuracy.

Elladan and Elrohir looked over Celeborn's shoulders, not daring to face his wrath.

'Look at me!' ordered Celeborn. 'My temper I can control most of the time, but now I find it is swiftly escaping me.'

Two pairs of grey eyes were trained instantly on Celeborn's blue ones.

'The screaming Elf on the floor, who is she?' Celeborn continued.

The brothers glanced at each other, not knowing if this was a trick question or not. 'Naneth,' Elrohir finally replied, returning his gaze to Celeborn.

'Right,' snapped Celeborn. 'And the dark-haired Elf, kneeling beside her, trying to calm her, who is he?'

'Adar.' This time Elladan replied.

'Right again. Now... who are you in relation to Elrond and Celebrian?' Celeborn inquired next.

Again the twins exchanged a look. What was their angry grandparent getting at? 'Their–' Elladan stammered. 'Their children.'

Celeborn nodded, triumphantly. 'I am glad you chose 'children' over 'sons.' For though they are one and the same in this case, my daughter's sons are acting like immature children, not the adults they claim to be.'

Elladan got impatient, and his nerves, already worn thin by the scene in the healing room, snapped. 'Just tell us what you want,' he cried, ignoring Elrohir's foot when it came down firmly on his.

'I want your respect, Elladan Elrondion. I want your respect for my wife and myself, but more so for you mother and father. You had best remember that, were it not for your parents, neither of you would have existed.'

'What we said in the room was said not out of disrespect but out of worry for Naneth,' Elrohir burst out.

'Nonetheless, your sister gave you an order from your father, and yet you ignored it. Then your father gave you a nearly identical one, and you still waited to obey.' Celeborn gazed at his grandsons, at a loss as to what to say next. Finally he opened his mouth again. 'It is not often I am disappointed with you, and even rarer when I am disgusted with you, but I tell you both, I could not be more disgusted than I am already if you gave me a hundred more reasons to be so. Now leave. Do not show yourselves to me till the next day.'

Elrohir muttered an apologetic 'Yes, my lord,' to his grandfather, while Elladan merely stuck out his chin in obvious defiance.

Coldly ignoring both of them, Celeborn swept back into the room. Celebrian had exhausted herself and lay limply on the floor, her head cushioned in Elrond's lap. Galadriel moved towards him and took his hand in hers.

Elrond looked up dully. 'Where are the twins?' he asked.

Celeborn snorted. 'I could hardly care less about that right now. Though I am not sure about Elrohir, I expect Elladan has gone off to some solitary area to nurse his bruised pride and to sulk.'

'Celeborn,' murmured Galadriel. 'He is their father.' Her observation did as she had hoped it would and he fell silent after a strained, 'Forgive me, my son.'

Elrond shook his head. 'Their minds are swift, but their tongues are swifter,' he said. 'As their father, I ask for your forgiveness for any unfitting word or action.'

Galadriel smiled softly and laid her hand on her husband's arm. 'They must have gotten their quick tongue from their mother's side, who in her turn, got it from hers.'

Elrond had slipped his arms underneath his wife and now she was lying on the bed, her husband sitting beside her. 'I fear the sons of Fëanor, Gil-galad and Círdan would dispute that claim. As Celebrian got hers from both her parents, so did Elladan and Elrohir.'

'Just as you say,' replied Galadriel, unconvinced.

After having been assured by Arador and Elrond that their mother would recover from her ordeal in time, Elladan and Elrohir had managed to mask their smouldering hatred and anger against the Orcs. They were content – for the moment, at least – to stay with their mother while she regained her health.

But then Celebrian suffered two terrifying fits and the old fears immediately began to grip at the hearts of the twins. With hope and joy no longer present to hide it, the lust for revenge inside them was obvious to any Elf who saw either of them.

After their grandfather's furious reprimand, the twins had made for the stables. Elrohir had chosen another young stallion, the half-brother of Beledhel, for they were sired by the same stallion. He had named the steed Eldroth, or Starbearer, for though his hide was as black as night, his eyes were as stars, shining forth in the blackness.

Once Beledhel and Eldroth were saddled, the twins rode from the yard in a wild gallop, riding hard and only stopping when the foaming horses could go no further.

Elladan was still angry at his grandfather for treating them as Elflings and stood stiffly, looking nowhere in particular. His back was to Elrohir and the horses. He sensed Elrohir behind him before he saw him. 'What do you want, Elrohir?' he snapped.

Ignoring the question, Elrohir moved to stand beside Elladan instead of behind him. 'If Naneth does not recover wholly and completely from this, Elladan, I shall pursue every foul spy of Sauron – be it Orc or no – till I die in combat or the last one is destroyed.'

'And if Adar does not consent and give us permission?' Elladan's voice was toneless, as though he had no emotion left in him.

'That did not bother you last time,' Elrohir replied, his temper rising. 'Why should it do so now?'

'You told me you had promised Adar to try to obey him. That includes trying not to disobey him,' Elladan said sardonically.

'By all means I shall try. But no promise would keep me here if Naneth is made to suffer such horrors for the rest of her life. Not if I had promised Eru Himself would I stay.'

Elladan gave a short laugh. 'You should have promised Eru and not Adar. For Eru may understand and accept your behaviour, but Adar shall not. I made no such promise to anyone, Eru or Adar. I shall go.'

'Elladan, why will you not understand?!' Elrohir cried desperately. He grasped Elladan by the shoulders and turned his brother to face him. 'If Naneth remains in this state, it shall be beyond my power to obey Adar. I assure you that I would think up every excuse to try to make myself remain here, but none of them would manage to satisfy my anger and hatred.' He paused but Elladan did not move. 'Elladan, you must understand, you must. I would be breaking no promise, for Adar made me swear to do my best, not that which is impossible.'

'I do understand, Elrohir,' Elladan finally said. 'And I apologise for my words, for I hear they are to blame for the rare appearance of your horrendous temper.' He held Elrohir close to him, not caring when tears found their way down his cheeks.

Elrohir returned the embrace, then stepped back and glanced towards the horses who were searching for sweet patches of clover. 'We should make our way home. A storm approaches.'

Sure enough, dark clouds were covering the sky, cutting off the sun's rays. Thunder pealed in the distance.

'Let us not return to the House yet,' counselled Elladan. 'It will be too difficult to avoid Daeradar and personally, I am no more eager to see him than he is to see us. Let us go to the Waterfall.'

The Waterfall – the largest one, found only a kilometre from the courtyard in front of the doors of the House of Elrond, had always been the twins' favourite rendezvous. There was a beautiful cave behind the curtain of water. Soft sand was strewn two or three inches thick over the rocky floor, and reflections from the water danced endlessly on the walls and roof of the single-chamber cave.

Centuries before, when they had been Elflings, they had used the cave as a storage place for their most treasured belongings. Shells and small wooden boats Círdan had sent from the Havens were kept there, as well as their first blunted training swords. In a small chest with Elladan's name carved on it, there were several odds and ends, among them an ugly-looking rusty nail which Elrond had extracted from Elladan's ten-year-old foot with some difficulty.

An identical chest sat beside Elladan's: Elrohir's. The contents were much the same, but instead of a nail, there was an empty wine bottle, the former contents of which had been bottled in Lórien.

 _One year at the Midsummer's Day feast, Elrohir had snitched a bottle of the tempting drink and, with no help, had downed the contents in record time in the garden. The empty bottle fell onto the soft grass, landing with a small thump. But Elrohir had begun to feel queer in the midsection and made for his mother and father._

 _Upon reaching them, he sank to the floor and promptly lost all his dinner on the floor in front of them. His head had felt fuzzy and impossibly heavy and, despite being pressed for information by his parents, he had been unable to form any words._

 _His mother had been horrified, his father mortified, but Elladan had looked on in envy. The sight of his twin's pale green face and rolling eyes caused his imagination to create colourful images. Some secret enemy of his brother slipping some deadly poison into his food or drink, or a spell had been cast on Elrohir, who was now dying in a most painful way._

 _The next morning, Elrohir had woken with a violent headache and a very empty stomach. He was more than happy to leave his stomach as it was, for he was sure that he could not manage a single bite of food._

 _Then he saw Galadriel sitting beside his bed, embroidery in hand. 'Well, penneth. How do you feel?'_

 _Elrohir opened his mouth, relieved when he found he could speak. But instead of admitting how much pain he was in, he found himself sobbing. 'I want Nana,' he kept saying._

 _A maid had summoned his parents and they had come instantly. Celebrian had been sympathetic and motherly, while Elrond had been... well, Elrond had been stern and fatherly. There had been questions to answer and promises to make, but worst of all was the pain-relieving tea Elrond made him take._

 _Elladan came in then, still feeling envious. Leaping onto the bed, he said solemnly, 'I got him, Rohir.'_

 _Elrond and Celebrian looked at each other over Elladan's head. Elrohir regarded Elladan with a confused expression. 'Caught who?' he finally asked._

' _Why, the one who tried to kill you, of course. Who else?' Elladan's eyes went wide with surprise and worry. Had the poison damaged Elrohir's memory?_

 _Elrohir opened his mouth to protest, but Elladan interrupted him. 'It is alright, Elrohir. You have nothing to fear. I have him tied up in my closet. The trial is set for tomorrow afternoon.'_

' _Trial?' gasped Celebrian._

 _Elladan turned a scathing gaze on her. 'Nana, you must stay calm. If Elrohir gets distressed, all will be lost. Ro, you must come to court and testify against him.'_

' _ **Who**_ _?' screamed Elrohir, wincing as his head protested painfully, despite the tea._

' _Why... Haldir, of course. He tried to poison you last night by slipping something into your tea. I think it has affected your memory.'_

 _Elrond began to choke._

' _Why do you think your brother was poisoned, child?' Celebrian inquired, sending a warning look to her husband._

' _Well, because Elrohir came staggering through the crowd, all green in the face, and retched all over the floor, of course,' Elladan said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world._

' _And how do you know it was Haldir?' asked Elrond, who had recovered from his choking fit._

' _I saw him putting something into his own apple cider,' Elladan replied truthfully. 'And last night, when I first began to suspect poison, I looked into Elrohir's cup and there were white crystals at the bottom of it as well.' He glanced at his parents' faces. 'Why? Is something wrong? Did I miss something?'_

 _Elrond struggled not to laugh as he replied. 'Haldir does not like his cider too bitter, so he adds white sugar to it. I believe that is what you saw in Elrohir's glass. Besides, why would he try to poison himself?'_

' _Why would he put it in Ro's glass?' Elladan asked next. A cold fear was beginning to clutch at his stomach. What if he was wrong?_

 _Elrohir replied this time. He asked me if I wanted some, because I asked what he was doing. It was sugar, Ladan.'_

' _So you were not poisoned?' Elladan's voice was genuinely disappointed._

' _No, I just drank a whole bottle of red juice by myself. It did not taste very good, but it made me feel silly inside. Then I felt horrible and went to Nana and Ada and was sick.' He looked up at his father. 'Do you know what kind of juice it was, Ada?'_

' _I believe I do, ion-nin. It was grape juice. Fermented grape juice, also known as red wine,' Elrond replied, slightly amused._

' _Wine!' gasped Elladan. 'That is only for Nanas and Adas! Not for Elflings! Elrohir!'_

' _Well, I did not know what it was. Anyways, now you cannot say that you were first with everything. Because I was first to have wine.'_

' _And first to get thoroughly drunk,' Elrond muttered, earning himself a glare from Celebrian._

Elrohir smiled slightly as he remembered. Elladan's jealousy had simply gotten worse, and he had vowed to beat Elrohir somehow. Unfortunately, their parents had sternly elicited a promise from the two of them that they would never touch another beverage that they were not sure of until they had their parents' permission.

As he and his brother rode towards the roaring waterfall, Elrohir continued to brood. Not a word was spoken till they arrived at their destination.

'Well,' said Elladan. 'Here we are.'

The twins spoke to their horses, who turned around and started in the direction of the stables. When they were no longer in sight, Elladan and Elrohir turned and slipped behind the falling water. Pressing themselves against the rock wall to prevent becoming soaked, they walked slowly inwards, enjoying the feel of the mist as it caressed their faces and necks.

As they neared the cave, sand covered the floor, taking the place of slippery, damp stones and mud. Upon entering their meeting-place, both twins kicked off their soft leather boots.

'If we could take this inside to Naneth, perhaps she would see the beauty of Arda instead of the horrifying aspects,' Elladan mused.

'But alas, the healing wing is on the other side of the house,' replied Elrohir, wiggling his toes in the sand. 'As we saw today, Naneth does not even recognise her husband. There is little hope, then, that she would recognise nature.'

Elladan nodded, disappointed and worried. He wandered over to his chest and pulled out the nail, fingering it gingerly. 'After the incident with this, I swore never to set foot in Galathore's carpentry shop every again.'

'It would seem you either forgot about that vow till this moment, or else you ignored it,' Elrohir replied from where he stood, a beautiful red shell from the Havens in his hand. In a fit of anger, he hurled the shell across the cave. The moment he realised what would happen, he regreted it. The shell struck the opposite wall with a resounding _crack_ and bounced back, shattering into millions of tiny shards.

'Ai, Elbereth, what have I done?' wailed Elrohir, running across the sand. 'What have I done?' He bent down, picking up every piece of shell that he could find, hoping vainly that if he could find enough, he may somehow be able to fix what he had broken in his fury.

'What is wrong, Elrohir? It was merely an old shell you fancied, was it not?' Elladan asked, confused.

''An old shell?'' cried Elrohir, pausing in his search for errant pieces. 'It was the one from Naneth. She brought it to me one day when we were in the Havens, visiting Lord Círdan, and told me I could hear the Sea in it.'

'And could you?' Elladan inquired.

'Aye, so very clearly it seemed like I was right there!' Elrohir gave up his search, hopeless. 'It is no use,' he moaned. 'I have lost it.' He placed the retrieved bits in his chest and carefully shut it.

'Elrohir?'

Elrohir glanced up at his brother.

'I too shall not rest freely till we have revenge. I shall go with you.'

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Part XII**

Days passed, turning into weeks. Weeks then turned into a month. And into another. At the end of the third, Celebrian seemed to be doing so well that Elrond allowed her to get up.

Even with this change for the better, the twins could no longer mask their hatred for their mother's cruel persecutors. Too long they had had to look upon the result of the Orcs' instruments of torture. The lust for revenge shone in their eyes, blotting out nearly every other emotion.

Only one other hint of feeling remained: fear. Every time they set eyes on their mother's form, she seemed to diminish in size and light. She was but a pale wraith, a shadow, haunted and frightened, flitting from place to place. She was fading and the twins knew it, though they were afraid to admit it, even to each other.

At his mother's wish, Elrohir had taken to playing his violin again, and at her order, he had begun attending the practices and rehearsals. When he played, he seemed almost happy. The anger and fear dimmed, and his eyes mirrored another feeling: peace. Perhaps this was because his mother was nearly always sitting in front of him, listening, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

One day, everything changed. Elrohir and Celebrian were in the music room alone, Celebrian listening attentively while Elrohir practiced, when a memory came back to her suddenly. Everything else was blocked from her mind; her eyes were unseeing. All she perceived was a great, ugly Orc coming towards her, a jagged knife clenched in his paws. Beady green eyes shone out of his disfigured face, while saliva dripped off the ends of rotting fangs, spread apart in a hungering grin.

Faintly to her ears came the sound of her son's violin, but slowly it became the sound of the surrounding Orcs jeering and flinging insults at her.

Celebrian closed her eyes and screamed. She felt herself falling forwards, even as she heard a crash and a frantic voice scream, 'Naneth!' Then her head struck the floor violently and everything went black.

Glorfindel had heard Celebrian and Elrohir's screams from down the hall. Dropping the pile of paperwork he was bringing to his lord's study, he cried, 'Elrond, to the music room!' and turned in that direction, leaving papers scattered all over the floor.

Elrond felt a flutter of distress coming from his bonds with both Celebrian and Elrohir. Then Glorfindel's cry had come to his ears: _'Elrond, to the music room!'_ and he had not hesitated for a second.

Upon entering the room, Elrond saw the twins, Glorfindel, and Erestor kneeling on the floor with his wife lying motionless in the middle. With a strangled gasp, he pushed Glorfindel and Elladan aside, making room for himself by Celebrían's head.

Quickly he checked her over. A large lump was swiftly forming over her left eye, but she was not bleeding anywhere, thanks to the carpet on the floor. He lifted her onto the couch and wiped her face with a cool cloth which Erestor had thoughtfully fetched, anticipating his lord's unspoken request.

'She is merely unconscious,' he finally said. 'Let us be thankful it was not another fit.' He turned to Elrohir. 'What happened?'

'I...she...' stammered Elrohir, not knowing where to begin. 'I was playing and she was sitting on this couch calmly. I glanced up at her when I thought I heard a gasp and her eyes were unfocused. She was pressing herself onto the couch as hard as she could, as though she were trying to escape from something. Then she screamed and began to fall forwards.'

'Why did you not stop her fall?' snapped his father, his worry making him sharp.

Elrohir lowered his eyes to his lap, sensing his father's displeasure. 'I am sorry, Adar. I found I could not move until it was too late. I could only call her name. Forgive me.'

Elrond sighed in defeat. 'Nay, it is I who should apologise. You have done nothing wrong. I was not blaming you, nor am I angry with you. It is merely how the past few months have gone by...' he left off, burying his face in his hands, feeling the strain of the weeks come over him, seeking to smother him.

Immediately, Elladan and Elrohir were beside him, one on each side. 'It is not your fault either, Adar,' Elladan began. 'We should have taken more precautions to ensure that the Pass was safe.'

'You took every precaution,' Elrond replied into his hands.

'Nonetheless, it shall not be forgotten by the Peredhil what they have done,' Elrohir said determinedly. 'They shall pay ten times over for every glance they cast towards Naneth.'

'What do you mean?' Elrond asked suspiciously, glancing up at the twins. 'How do you intend to make them pay? They have all been destroyed.'

'That is yet to be found,' Elladan answered hastily. 'But it shall be done, somehow, sometime.'

Elrond sighed again, unconvinced. He turned to the two other Elves in the room. 'Thank you, Glorfindel, Erestor. Your help was appreciated. You may return to your duties. I believe Celebrian will suffer nothing out the ordinary as results from this ordeal.'

'Please the Valar she shall not,' Erestor said sincerely. He bowed and left the room, Glorfindel close behind him.

'I will take her to our room,' Elrond said, again lifting his wife easily into his arms. 'Elrohir, you had best either repair your violin or take it to be fixed. I believe it is unplayable at the moment.'

His twins turned around and Elrohir went to pick up his violin. There was a four-inch long break on one side, but nothing so serious it would be impossible to repair. Two strings were broken, and the chinrest had come loose. 'I can restring it and fix the chin-rest, but I do not know how to fix this,' he said, indicating the break.

'Erestor will know who to go to,' Elladan said, walking over to survey the damage. 'It looks nasty.'

'It does, but it is not really as bad as it looks.' He turned to his father. 'Adar, may we sit with her after I bring this to Erestor?'

'I suppose that would be fine, as long as you are not busy with something else. Your mother shall recover completely, the memory is what did the most damage.' Elrond went to the door, his wife held gently in his arms.

'That is what I am most afraid of,' Elrohir muttered.

Elladan looked at him. 'Why is that?'

'You should have seen her, Ladan! The look of pure terror and anguish on her face nearly killed me! I could do nothing but drop my violin and scream at her, which probably did nothing to help.' Elrohir's face was awash with guilt.

Elladan sighed inwardly. They always went through this when one of their family members were injured. One of them always said, 'I should have been there to prevent it,' and the other always had to talk sense into him. 'I am sure that it was nearly as hard for you as it was for her, Elrohir,' he finally said. 'We both know what it is like.'

'No! You were not there, Elladan. You will never know what it was like, so do not say that you will. I beg of you.' Elrohir turned pleading eyes on his brother's face.

'All right,' Elladan said after a pause. 'But I shall never agree with you on that one point. Let us go in search of Erestor, then return to Naneth.'

They left the room and made their way towards their parents' bedchambers, stopping to talk to Erestor for a moment. He suggested that they bring the violin to Lindir, who had done similar repairs before.

After finding Lindir and explaining what happened, the twins quickly made their way back to their mother and father. Arwen had joined her father in the room and was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Celebrían's hand. Celebrian was beginning to regain consciousness as they entered and Elrond motioned to them to keep silent.

Celebrían's eyes fluttered open and she observed the familiar faces around her with silence. Finally she spoke. 'What happened?'

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances with each other, then with their father. Arwen made no movement or sound, keeping her eyes fixed on her mother's face.

When no one answered, she looked to her husband. 'Elrond?'

'A memory came to haunt you,' he finally said in a steady voice. 'You collapsed. How do you feel?'

'My head aches slightly, but other than that, normal. The new normal,' she finished softly. 'How I hate it.'

'Before you know it, you shall be as you were before this whole thing happened,' consoled Elrond. He felt Celebrían's mind touch his.

 _Elrond, I wish to speak to you privately._ Her eyes darted to her three children, who suspected nothing.

 _Of course, melleth-_ nin. He turned to the twins and Arwen and said out loud, 'Boys, Arwen, your mother needs to rest. I believe that there shall be no lasting harm, thus there is no need to fear. You may return to what you were doing.'

'But Adar–' Arwen began to protest.

Elrond held up his hand, stopping his daughter in mid-sentence. 'I have told you to do something, it was not in my mind that I would have to grow stern about it.'

'Yes Adar,' Arwen replied meekly. She bent down and kissed Celebrían's pale cheek and stood up, going to the door without a second glance. The twins followed after they, too, kissed their mother good night, shutting the door behind them.

Celebrian waited until she could no longer hear her children. She turned her eyes to her husband. 'I hardly know how to say this,' she began, trying not to hesitate.

'There is no need, my Star, for I know what it is you desire to say,' Elrond said, his heart beginning to feel as though it were being torn to shreds. 'You wish to sail.'

Celebrían's eyes filled. None but her husband would have taken this terrible statement as calmly and quietly as Elrond did. Her parents and Arwen would surely understand, her sons she was not so sure about. 'I fear that if I stay on this shore, I shall fade till I die. At least if I sail now before it is too late I shall have a chance to again see my beloved family, while if I do otherwise, I shall surely be restrained in the Halls of Mandos.'

Elrond knelt beside the bed, pressing the tiny, delicate hand to his lips, letting his own tears fall on it. 'If only there were some other way! If only I had the power to heal your fea, as well as your hroa!'

A dry sob ripped free of Celebrían's throat. 'You know, dearest, that if I thought there was another way of doing this, I would do it, whatever the consequences. But I can find no way; no matter what we say to ourselves, we both know that the memories and nightmares shall never leave me as long as I dwell in this world. In Valinor I shall find healing and hope, while in all of Arda, there is none.'

Elrond buried his head in the mattress of their bed, weeping unashamedly, clutching his wife's hand to his chest as though he would never let go. 'Why must I always fail?' he cried into the coverlet. 'Why am I never enough?'

'Do not take the blame when it is not rightfully yours,' she said softly, though her heart was breaking. 'You have not failed, you have never failed. And while you yet live, you never shall.'

Elrond raised his head. 'Ever has it been your way to convince me of what I am loathe to accept,' he whispered. 'Ah, Celebrian, how I love you.' He shook his head, as though clearing his thoughts. 'What are we to tell them?'

'The truth,' Celebrian replied, running her free hand through his hair. 'They deserve nothing less. Arwen came of age many years ago, the twins even before. They are old enough to know what is happening to their mother.'

'All three of them have shown in the past few months that they still have need for their parents,' Elrond replied. 'I shall not be able to be both a father and mother to them. Can you not wait a few years?'

'I think we both know the answer to that,' Celebrian said gently. 'I must leave on the next ship. That will be best.'

Elrond's heart screamed at him to continue pleading, but he forced himself to respect his wife's wishes. Slowly he bowed his head. 'I shall send word to Círdan and find out when that shall be. For you sake, Celebrian, I hope that it is soon, but for mine, I hope that time shall never come. I shall send a messenger as soon as I can, but for now you must rest.' He let go of her hand and touched her lips with his.

'We can tell the children tonight,' Celebrian said so softly Elrond had to strain to hear her. As Elrond nodded his agreement, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Arwen, trying to distract herself from her mother's sudden collapse, went to sit with her maidens in the main sitting room and embroider. The lower-class elves seemed to notice nothing except that their mistress was pale and rather quieter than usual.

Elladan and Elrohir went to Elrohir's room and flopped down unceremoniously on his large, immaculately-made bed. Lying on their backs, they studied the ceiling while contemplating what had happened. The possibility of their mother perhaps sailing to the Undying Lands had not even entered their minds. They firmly believed that their father could and would heal their mother wholly, so that such an action would not be needed.

Elladan rolled onto his side and glanced at his brother. 'Naneth will be all right, muindor,' he said, as much to convince himself as his brother. 'Adar and Naneth both said so.'

'I know,' Elrohir replied without looking at Elladan. 'I am not worried about that.'

'Then what is wrong?'

'Before he made us leave, Naneth said something to Adar through their bond, which was when he dismissed us. Naneth knows something is wrong, and she wanted to tell Adar about it without us overhearing it.' Elrohir turned to his twin. 'We should have stayed and listened in.'

'Elrohir!' reprimanded Elladan. 'We always got in enormous trouble when we eavesdropped as children. If this was something so important that it had to be told in private, then Adar would never forgive us for hearing intentionally.'

'What makes you think Adar would find us out? We have managed before.' Elrohir returned his eyes to the ceiling of his room.

Elladan moved to lie on his stomach, laying his chin on his crossed arms. 'He always found out somehow; that he would fail to do so now is unlikely. If it is something as important as you make it out to be, then they shall tell us presently. Most likely it was just that they wished to talk it over before telling us the horrifying news.' Elladan pushed himself off the bed. 'Let us go see about your violin.'

Elrohir followed his brother out the door and to Lindir's study. Knocking on the door, they waited Lindir's distracted call.

When it came, they entered hesitantly. It was never wise to interrupt Lindir while he was working on paperwork or some such thing. Luckily this time, though, he was merely reading a book.

'Do you have news of my violin?' Elrohir asked when Lindir had placed a bookmark in the thick volume.

'It is an easy repair. It shall be done by tomorrow morning,' Lindir replied obligingly. 'How is your mother?'

'Adar says that she will be fine; she simply needs to rest,' Elladan replied for both of them. 'However, we must get back to our duties. Farewell.'

The twins met their father as they walked by their mother's room.

'Adar?' Elrohir said as he nearly ran into them.

'Forgive me, my sons, I was lost in thought.' Elrond glanced at them, then continued walking towards his study.

The twins followed him, concerned. 'Adar, is something wrong?' persisted Elladan. 'Why are you so distracted?'

'You need not worry yourselves over it,' Elrond replied shortly, with just enough warning in his voice that the twins would hopefully not press him further. 'Now I must write a message and find someone to deliver it. Your mother is sleeping. Please do not disturb her.'

Elladan and Elrohir gave up.

Inside his study, Elrond leaned against his shut door. That had been close. The twins suspected something and they would not easily be convinced that they had nothing to worry about. Come this evening, though, they would no longer worry. Their fury and grief would overcome that emotion.

Hurrying to his desk, he sat down and dipped a quill in his inkpot. He held it over a fresh piece of parchment and closed his eyes in despair. How did his wife expect him to write such a note to the Lord of the Havens, asking him to reserve a cabin for his own wife on the next ship? Ai, Valar, it was too cruel.

He stared at nothing for five minutes. Finally he wrote down what first came to mind, not caring what it read like.

The note, after he finished read thus:

 _To be delivered into the hands of Lord Círdan the Shipwright of the Grey Havens_

 _March 28, 2510_

 _Lord Círdan,_

 _My wife has decided to sail West over the Sea after being held captive by Orcs for nearly a month. Please send word of when the next ship will depart._

 _May the light of the Valar shine upon you and your people._

 _Elrond of Imladris_

An hour later, the message was in the hands of one of his most trusted runners, who left with the strictest instructions _not_ to open it.

Elrond was quiet for the rest of the day. Seeing this, all three of his children remained relatively silent as well, worry filling their hearts for both their parents.

Supper was a poor affair. None of them ate much, and the stony silence reigned supreme. Afterwards, Elrond brought them all to their mother's room, where she lay, pale and unmoving on the bed, waiting for them.

Celebrian, seeing her husband did not know how to explain it, began. 'Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, your father and I spoke together this afternoon after you left and we have decided that... I must leave you for a time. I am not healing here in Imladris; I am merely wilting, fading. We have decided that it is best for me to leave, to go to a place where I shall be able to forget the past.'

The twins were speechless. They had suspected something serious, but not something to this extent. Arwen broke the awkward silence.

'Where will you go? To Lothlórien?' Again she sat by her mother, her hand clasping Celebrían's.

'No,' murmured Celebrian. 'I fear that I shall find no peace in Arda ever again. Your father has sent word to Círdan of the Havens.'

'Círdan... H-Havens?' Elladan managed.

'You are sailing West?' Elrohir completed Elladan's train of thought.

'If I do not, then I fear that I shall die and go to Mandos' Halls.' Celebrian looked to her husband for help.

'At least this way we shall see each other in Valinor when we join your mother,' Elrond said quietly. 'If she should die, then she would remain in the Halls of Waiting while we were forced to stay separated from her, either here or in the Undying Lands.'

'But you healed her! You said only this afternoon that she would be fine!' Elladan cried, anger at his parents rising up in him, threatening to drown out all other emotions.

'That was before your mother broached the possibility of her sailing to me,' Elrond defended himself. 'Do you not understand that by sailing, it is the only way she shall recover fully?'

'No, I do not understand. Naneth, can you not simply go to Lórien as Arwen suggested? Daernaneth could help you. I know she could!' Elrohir pleaded.

'Daernaneth shall not be able to do any more than your father has already done,' Celebrian said firmly. 'And I would beg you two to try to understand, if only for my sake.'

'If you must go, then you must go,' Arwen said softly, tears cascading down her cheeks. 'Somehow I never thought that it would come to this.'

'You were not the only one, my daughter,' Celebrian said equally softly, reaching up a delicate hand to caress her daughter's cheek. She glanced at the twins. 'None of us thought I would be forced to leave. I only realised it last night myself, your father this afternoon.'

'And you said we did not need to worry ourselves over it, Adar!' Elladan bit at his father. 'What did you mean by that?'

'Elladan!' snapped his mother. Despite the situation, it was heartening to see Celebrian was still well enough to scold her misbehaving children. 'This is no occasion for your smart tongue, Elfling. We shall see each other again sometime, but only Eru knows when.

'Goheno nin, Naneth, Adar,' Elladan finally muttered, seeing that his mother expected it of him and would not be pacified until he gave in. 'I spoke too swiftly.'

Elrond placed a hand on the twin's shoulder. 'I have already sent word to Lord Círdan; the messenger should arrive in the Havens in about a week. We will know within a fortnight at the earliest.'

Elrohir sank down on the bed, feeling defeated. Their mother was leaving them, never to return, in perhaps a month. Again his mind began to twist with hatred for himself and for the miserable Orcs. He should have gone with her, to protect her. He should have seen to the safety precautions himself: the scouting, the night-watches. They should not have gone by the Pass. They should have taken the long way around.

Why had the Orcs been in that place at that time? Why had it been their mother getting captured instead of one of the warriors? Elrohir jerked himself to the present. That had been selfish to ask himself. Of course he knew the reason they took his mother. She was the most beautiful female in the group – and it seemed as though she was of importance, for the warriors were going to great measures to ensure she stayed safe. But they had failed. Everyone had failed but the Orcs.

Why was fate so cruel to them?

His eyes had glazed over and when he cleared them, he saw his parents and sister looking at him in concern. Elladan knew what was going through his twin's mind; it was probably going through his as well.

'Elrohir?' his mother called. 'What is wrong? Are you injured?'

Elrohir shook his head, at a loss for what to say. He finally managed to gasp out, 'It– it is all... our fault.'

Celebrian shook her head. She had been through this with the twins – and even Elrond, once or twice – many times. 'You could not have known. The scouts came back to report that the Pass was safe; they also are blameless. The Orcs acted cleverly, an unusual happening. They went to great pains to not be discovered. And they were not, until it was too late.'

'We should have gone with you. At least we should have been able to go with the scouts!' Elladan replied for his brother.

'That would not have helped. You would merely come back to report all was well, then when I was taken, you would feel worse than you do now, for it was you who said nothing would happen. Do you not see?'

'How do you know we would find nothing? Glorfindel says that we are two of his best scouts! We would have seen their tracks and followed them!' Elladan sat down beside his brother.

'The best are the best, not the perfect,' Elrond countered. 'It shall be as your mother wishes it. Círdan is sending the information about the ship next departing; we shall all make the journey to the Havens when the time comes.'

Arwen stifled a sob; standing, she ran out of the room.

'Excuse us,' Elrohir said after a moment, pulling Elladan to the door. 'I am sure you have much to say... in private,' he finished scornfully.

'Elrohir...' began Elrond.

'Do not fear for us Adar. We shall not worry ourselves over it.'

The door to the room slammed shut behind the twins, even as the doors to their hearts began to close, slowly but surely.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Second-last chapter of book one! Please read and review!**

 **Part XIII**

About two and a half weeks later, the messenger returned from Lord Círdan's realm. The twins, Arwen, their father, Erestor and Glorfindel were at supper in the family dining room when a servant announced his presence. He was admitted immediately and the family waited without breathing as he walked over to Elrond and handed him the reply with a bow.

Nothing but the rustled of paper could be heard as everyone waited to find out what the note said. Elrond read over it first, then repeated it out loud.

 _To be given into the hands of Lord Elrond Peredhil of Imladris_

 _April 6_ _th_ _of the year 2510_

 _Lord Elrond,_

 _The next ship is scheduled to leave five weeks from this day, on the 11_ _th_ _of next month._

 _Círdan of the Havens_

Five weeks. Since Cirdan's message had been written, eleven days had passed, meaning that the ship would be leaving in a little over three weeks. That was all the time they had together until they met again in Valinor, and Eru alone knew when – if– that would be.

They planned to leave in three days. This would give them ample time to arrive at the Havens and, hopefully, a few days there together before the ship sailed.

Elrond feared that Arwen would chose to leave with her mother – she no longer seemed to find joy in anything. As for the twins, he was also worried about them, though for a different reason. He was sure they would not sail any time soon. They would get revenge before that happened.

After getting Círdan's reply, Elrond left to show the message to his wife. Celebrían's face lit up with quiet joy, then fell again as she beheld her husband's stricken countenance and the tears running down his cheeks. She took hold of his hand.

'Elrond,' she began, then stopped. After a moment she continued. 'I shall never stop thinking of you when I am gone. You shall be my constant thought; I shall send my love to you with every journey Vingilot makes. I shall wait for the day when you and the children join me in the land of Bliss.'

'I want to go with you!' gasped Elrond. 'I shall not be able to bear your absence.'

'You cannot come yet, my dearest. The children need you, Middle-earth needs you. You must be strong for the twins and Arwen.'

'They can come with us!'

'They would not be happy, Elrond. They are young yet, and have not tired of Arda. Neither, if I may say so, have you. And nothing will change the fact that Middle-earth is still in need of what you can give it. Remain a little longer, my husband, then join me.'

Elrond did not seem to think much of this suggestion.

'Now go; return to your meal. I must rest.' Celebrian closed her eyes as Elrond shut the door behind him.

The next few days were filled with preparations to leave. Trunks were packed, small reminders of her family were packed for Celebrían's sake, and goodbyes were said. The evening before the departure date, the trunks were stowed in a wagon. Elrond wanted Celebrian to ride in the wagon so she would not exhaust herself, but Celebrian refused to submit.

'I shall be fine riding; I promise that if I tire, I shall go immediately to the wagon. Please do not worry, Elrond. I shall be fine.' Celebrian knew very well that Elrond had never been able to win one of these sort of arguments, especially when it came from her. (The twins knew this as well, they had learned it from her and they often used it on him.)

The next day was warm and sunny. The small family, along with three escorts, set out for the Havens soon after breakfast. Elrond and his three children tried hard to meet Celebrían's joyful spirits, but they could do little more than to give her a small smile every now and then.

It continued this way till noon of the next day. Finally Celebrian reined in her horse and turned it to face her husband and children. 'I want you to listen to me, all four of you. There is no reason for you to be so sad. You ought to be happy. If I were not leaving, I would be dying. If I were staying in this Middle-earth, you would have a right to be mourning, for I would soon leave you and go to Mandos, and there my fate would be uncertain. But this way I shall not die, this way I shall live forever, and we shall meet again.' She hesitated though, and looked for a long moment at the twins and Arwen. They had yet to make their choice. Elrond followed her gaze, reading her mind.

 _Do not fear, Celebrian. I shall keep them safe with me._

Celebrian smiled and nodded at her husband. _I know you will, Elrond, it was foolish of me to doubt you._

She continued out loud. 'I shall get angry if I see your long faces any longer. Smile and be happy, not just for my good fortune, but for yours as well.' With that, she turned her horse back in the right direction and set off again.

From that moment on, the family was cheerful, if not exactly joyous, despite Celebrían's best efforts.

The family met no obstacles to delay them, and they arrived in the Havens on the thirteenth day after leaving Imladris.

Círdan was waiting in front of his gates to welcome them. As Elrond and the twins dismounted, he went to Celebrian and helped her down from her horse, kissing her hand gallantly when she was safely on the ground. 'A pleasure, as always, my lady. It shall be a great sorrow not to have you visit us again at our midwinter and midsummer feasts. But we shall meet again across the Sea some day.'

'Indeed we shall. I have had this conversation with my family more times than I can count in the last week,' she laughed, then sobered. 'It will break my heart more than words can tell to leave them.'

Círdan bowed his head in respect, then turned to Arwen. 'My lady.' He kissed her hand, his eyes twinkling when he heard the choked giggle coming from her as his beard tickled her hand.

He greeted Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, then led the way into his house. Before long, they were settled in guest suites. Arwen had one to herself, and the twins shared one, as did their parents.

That night they had supper with Círdan in the spacious dining halls. The twins and Arwen sought to distract themselves from melancholic thoughts by listening as their parents and Círdan brought each other up-to-date on the doings of their respective realms.

After the meal, Arwen and her brothers went down to the beach to watch the Sea as it roared and foamed. Gulls swooped overhead, calling to each other and to the Elves. Before long Arwen went back inside, the Sea being a painful reminder of what was to come. The twins sat side by side on the beach, resting their heads together. They sat in silence, listening to the water as it crashed upon rocks a distance away.

A ways away, a Elven mother sang her child to sleep on the porch in front of her family's house. Elladan and Elrohir recognised it as a lullaby their mother had learned from friends who came to visit Imladris from the Havens. Before long, tears slid down their cheeks and they clung to each other, the pain each felt inside threatening to overwhelm them.

'Ladan? Rohir?'

The twins started and sat up, turning to the one who had come upon them so quietly. There stood Celebrian in a flowing evening gown of light blue, a silver sash was tied around her slender waist and now sat lightly upon her hips. She sat down between them and put an arm around each of them, pulling them close to her. 'What is it that tempts such bitter tears from your eyes?'

In reply, the twins hid their faces from her, allowing their dark hair to fall as curtains around their tear-stained countenances.

'You grieve for one who you think you are losing.' She waited for a moment. 'Am I not correct?'

'I do not want you to leave, Naneth,' whispered Elrohir after a moment. 'I may never see you again.'

Celebrian went pale. It was true, until their choices were made, nothing was certain. 'You have your lives before you, young ones. You have your choices before you. But whether or not you come to Valinor in the end, we shall not forget each other. We will hold each other in our hearts. Your father has not forgotten his twin, has he?'

'No. But he never speaks of him, either,' Elladan replied.

'He has lost many he loves,' Elrohir added. 'His parents, his brother, King Gil-galad.' He gave his mother a glance. 'And now you.'

Celebrían's eyes grew stern. 'He is not losing me. Gil-galad the High King and his parents are in Valinor – or above it. He shall not lose you either, as long as you do not do anything foolish.'

The twins exchanged a glance. Was she referring to their intention of getting revenge, and if so, how had she found out about it?

'When I am gone,' she continued. 'I want you to stay near to home so you can help. Do not seek revenge, for the Orcs did not achieve their goal. I will be happier than I was before I was taken, and that joy shall greaten a thousandfold when my family comes to me. But what shall the Orcs have?'

The twins were silent.

'They shall have misery, anger, death; their master cares not a hair's width for them, and he shall kill them when he no longer has a use for them. Let their blood be upon Sauron's hands, not yours.' She looked from one twin to the other as she spoke.

'It would not be wrong to take their lives. They were made for evil by Evil, they have done evil, they will die for evil. What should it matter who takes their lives?' Elladan snapped.

'Elves do not kill for the joy of ending a life, to get revenge for something their enemies attempted. They kill only when it is necessary. I expect you to remember that.' She glanced up at the sky, in which the moon now sailed. 'Come, let is return to the house. It is getting cool out here, and your father and our host shall wonder where we are.'

She rose, pulling her sons up with her and led the way back to the house. She did not seem as though she were shrunken and joyless anymore, for indeed she was not. Though still pale and smaller than usual, and her eyes still held fear at the haunting memories she retained, she remained their Naneth. Their Naneth who's eyes would still light up – making the evidence of nightmares disappear for the moment – when she laughed.

As Celebrían's departure date drew nearer, nothing anyone said to the twins could coax a smile or cheerful word from them. Their parents spoke to them, Arwen spoke to them, even Círdan pleaded with them in his gruff way.

The day before the ship was to leave, the Peredhil family had a pleasant surprise. Círdan went out for a 'breath of sea air' and came back with the Lord and Lady of Lórien behind him.

'Naneth! Adar!' Celebrian cried, running towards them. 'How did you get here so quickly?'

Galadriel embraced her daughter, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. 'I saw it in my mirror. We started out ten days before today.'

'Then you did not receive our message,' Celebrian said.

'Nay, but it is of little consequence,' joined Celeborn, who now held his daughter. 'Oh, my precious little one, are you really leaving us?'

'I must, Adar nin. I am no longer happy here, I no longer belong.' Celebrian gazed at her father and mother, silently pleading with them to understand.

'You will always belong with us, Celebrian,' Elrond said from behind her. 'Or rather, we, as a family, shall always belong together. That is why I and the children shall join you one day.'

'As shall we,' said Galadriel, struggling to stay calm.

Círdan cleared his throat. 'I have one other guest room in the eastern wing,' he said when the others turned their attention to him. 'It is next to Lady Arwen's. Shall I escort you?'

'Yes, thank you,' said Celeborn. As he and his wife walked by the twins and Arwen, Galadriel stopped long enough to place a kiss on each of their cheeks.

Arwen was distraught. It had not escaped her notice that even her grandmother had been keeping back tears. When she saw this, she broke down and was now sobbing, supported by two furious brothers.

Celebrian and Elrond now turned to them. Celebrian relieved the twins of their sister, saying, 'Come, my darling, let us go inside. Hush, there is no need to cry so.'

As Celebrian led Arwen to her chambers, Elrond looked at the twins. They glared daggers at anything and everything, including their father.

Before any of them could say anything, Elrohir let out a heaving breath. He turned on his heel and made for the stables. As though remembering something, he turned to Elladan. 'I am going off on my own. Do not follow me, I beg of you.'

'Elrohir– '

'Just do not!' Elrohir cried, his voice breaking.

'But– '

'Elladan, let him be,' Elrond interrupted gently.

'Why does he not want to be with me? Usually he refuses to leave me alone when things like this happen!' Elladan stared after his brother's retreating back.

'When has something like this happened before, my son?' Elrond asked. 'Have we ever been here before under these circumstances?'

'No...' Elladan admitted.

'This is something entirely new to all of us. Let Elrohir deal with it in his own way.' Elrond placed a consoling hand on Elladan's shoulder.

'But if he gets to deal with it his way, why can I not do the same?' Elladan retorted.

'What is keeping you from doing so?'

'Nothing, except the fact that my way is to be with Elrohir, and his is the exact opposite.'

Elrond gave a small smile. 'That is how it must be. Let Elrohir be alone now, then this evening you can be together, all right?'

'Yes Adar,' Elladan grumbled. In the distance, he watched as Elrohir lead his horse out of the stable and mounted it in one smooth motion. 'It is all their fault!' he suddenly shouted. 'They are to blame for this whole stupid mess!'

'Who are, Elladan?' asked Elrond calmly.

'The Orcs, and even the Elves, Adar. The Elves should have kept the mountains safe, and the Orcs should have been driven out. If the stupid Orcs had not taken Naneth captive, then she would not be sailing and none of this would be happening.'

Elrond decided to be blunt. They had both been through this conversation – or variations of it – too many times to count. 'Then leave it at this, child. You failed in your attempt to keep the mountain path safe – it was you and your brother who begged me to lay the burden of the mountain scouring on your shoulders. While you managed to take care of most of it, some Orcs managed to evade your companies, and so they laid hold of your mother when she and her party were crossing the Pass. So now we understand each other, do we not? You did not complete the order I gave you, and by not doing so, Orcs were permitted to roam at will through the mountains.'

'Adar... I did not mean that...' stuttered Elladan.

'Well then, what _did_ you mean?'

'I... if the Orcs had not come, then Naneth would not be sailing. She is always so sad and–'

'Sad? If I remember correctly, 'twas your mother who was ordering us to be happy on the way here. I can only imagine her reaction to your accusations, Elladan. Your mother finds no joy here anymore, Elladan, but she knows there will be no sorrow or pain in Valinor.' Elrond forced Elladan to look at him, not moved when Elladan began to squirm under his intense gaze.

'Does she find no joy in even her family? Surely she saw how Daernaneth was about to cry – Daernaneth never cries – did you not see how Arwen was weeping, heartbroken at the mere thought of losing her? Have the Orcs dulled her senses that much?'

Elrond turned on him, unable to make a sound. He grabbed Elladan and shook him violently. 'Do not you ever – _ever_ – speak that way of your mother again, Elladan Peredhil.' Most of the words were punctuated by a painful squeeze to Elladan's upper arms or a particularly rough shake.

An angry Elrond was something to behold – from a safe distance – but a furious one... well, not even a safe distance was a safe distance when Elrond was furious.

Now was one of those times. When Elrond finally stopped shaking Elladan and both had caught their breath, Elladan gasped out, 'I am sorry, Adar. I am so sorry. I did not mean it.'

'Then why did you say it?' snapped Elrond. 'One of your worst faults, Elladan, is that you never think before you speak.'

'I said I was sorry! What else can I do?' Elladan replied, hurt laced through his voice. 'Everything is horrid here. Maybe I will sail with Naneth!' He turned and ran into the house.

'Elladan!' Elrond called, realising what he had done. _Patronising my son for not thinking before speaking, then failing to do so myself._

Biting back a sigh, he made his way into the House, sparing a glance down the hallway towards the twins' rooms. With barely a moment's hesitation, he walked briskly down the hall, stopping at his own chambers. Celebrian and Arwen were there, Arwen still letting out a hitched breath every now and then while her mother did her hair.

'Do you wish to come to Naneth and Adar's rooms with us, melleth?' Celebrian asked as he came in.

'I... very well, if there is nothing else to do,' he replied absentmindedly.

'Why do you not go and invite Elladan and Elrohir, then?' She did not look up from her daughter's hair.

Elrond let out a small breath. 'Elrohir has left on a ride, but I shall see about Elladan.' Leaving the room, he continued down the hall towards his sons' suite.

When he knocked on the door, there was no answer. He opened it and cautiously stepped in, inwardly preparing himself for the difficult task of reasoning with Elladan.

There was no one in the sitting room, or the first bedroom. He walked out onto the balcony, and there he found Elladan.

Elladan was kneeling on the floor, hands desperately clenching the posts in the railing. His head was resting on one of his arms, and he was gasping for air around his wild sobs. He seemed to be aware of another's presence, though, because he cried, 'Go away, please just go away! I want to be alone. I want to be with Elrohir. Go!'

Elrond longed to come nearer and help Elladan but he knew that this action would not be help to Elladan. Without a word, he turned and left the balcony, returning to his wife and daughter.

'Will Elladan come?' Celebrian asked as he entered.

'No, I think not. He is exhausted, and only wishes to rest with no disturbances.' Elrond sat down on the bed and rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache before it actually descended upon him with all its fury.

Celebrian had completed Arwen's hair by this time, and was now patting it down and smoothing it out here and there.

'You look lovely, my Evenstar. How about you go ahead to your grandparents? Your father and I will follow soon.' She escorted Arwen to the door and shut it behind her, then turned to Elrond. 'What happened? There is more to the story than what you are telling me, is there not?'

'You always know, do you not?' Elrond asked wryly. 'Elladan will not let me come near him. He told me in the clearest words possible that he wants none but Elrohir, and that he shall stand none but Elrohir. He will not come.'

'Where is he?' Celebrian was already moving towards the door.

'On their balcony. Celebrian, I think he meant what he said. He merely wants to be alone.' Elrond also stood, hoping to restrain his fading wife.

'He shall stand me, Elrond,' she said firmly. 'I shall not permit him to do otherwise. I shall be back shortly – with our son.'

After she left, Elrond re-commenced rubbing his forehead. Even though his wife was fading day by day, she was still fiery when annoyed. Elladan had better be careful of what he said.

Celebrian walked as quickly as her body allowed towards where Elrond had said Elladan was. Like it or not, Elladan was going to come to their family gathering, as was Elrohir if he returned before long.

She knocked on the door, sure there would be no answer.

This time she was wrong. Elladan – not knowing who it was – screamed, 'Go away and leave me alone! You may not come in!'

Completely ignoring this command, she opened the door and stepped in delicately. She was not put off in the least at Elladan's disrespectful attitude. Proceeding to the balcony, she saw that Elladan was standing, glaring at the door as though he knew that his order would not be obeyed, mainly because of the way he had given it.

Elladan's face was still bathed with tears, his eyes red; his hands still clenched the railing. When he saw his mother, he took a step back and bowed his head. 'Forgive me, Naneth. I did not know it was you.'

'No, well, who did you think it would be then?' she asked.

Elladan said nothing. 'Elladan, I expect an answer. I shall not leave till I have one.'

'I did not think it would be you, that is all. I would have said it to anyone else,' he replied bluntly, hoping that this answer would satisfy her. How low it had been of his father to send his mother instead, for he – Elrond – knew that none so close to Celebrian could refuse her wishes easily.

'You would be so rude to your hosts, and to your family and friends?' Celebrian asked next. 'That will not help your reputation.'

'I do not care what people think of me!' snapped Elladan. 'I want to be left alone.'

Celebrian did nothing.

'Please,' he added.

Celebrian did not move. After a moment, she spoke. 'I want you to join your family for the evening. I insist that you do. It is not your choice.'

'I shall come when Elrohir returns. After all, how shall he know where to go if I do not wait for him?' Elladan turned around to glance at the horizon, hoping to see his brother.

'He shall find us. Círdan knows where we shall be, for he offered to have refreshments sent to us.' Celebrian walked to the edge of the balcony and looked down. 'Besides, you two always manage to find each other.' Though she knew of the twins' bond, she did not quite understand how strong it was.

Elladan searched for an excuse. He could think of none. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Celebrian decided to go in another direction. 'Elladan,' she began. 'Why are you so unhappy? I know my family is grieved at my decision to sail, but there is more, I can see it in your eyes.'

'Adar is displeased with me,' he began in a low voice. 'I am so outspoken, Naneth. Adar says I am, and he is right. I was disrespectful to him, then to you.'

'I suppose you two match each other perfectly, then. You speak too often, while at times, Elrohir stays silent. You both even the other out.'

'Not this time,' Elladan replied. _Not last time, either,_ he thought, remembering the episode in Elrond's study.

Celebrian laughed lightly. 'It is of little matter, as long as you are sorry. You can apologise later. But now you must join us.'

She took Elladan's arm and led him to her parents' rooms. They found their family in the sitting room. Celeborn and Elrond were standing by the fireplace, discussing something heatedly, stopping every now and then to pour themselves another glass of wine; Galadriel and Arwen were admiring the many paintings set around the room. All of them turned as Elladan and Celebrian entered. Elrond, upon seeing Celebrian lift her nose in the air at him, raised his eyebrows, then nodded at Elladan.

Elladan bowed his head slightly, then headed for one of the windows, stopping at the table to help himself to a glass of wine on the way.

'Oh, ye of little faith,' Celebrian murmured as she passed Elrond to join her mother and daughter at a particularly beautiful painting of the Sea at sunset.

Elladan, for his part, stayed at the window, still watching for Elrohir. It was nearly three hours till dinner time, so chances were great that Elrohir would not return for two of the three at least.

Quarter of an hour passed, then half an hour. At last Elladan saw a small blur coming swiftly towards the courtyard. As it drew nearer, he recognised his twin and his twin's horse.

He nearly dropped his empty wineglass in his hate. Setting it on the table, he interrupted his mother, who was now speaking with Elrond and her parents.

'..Speaking of those who do not think before they say something,' Celebrian said slightly louder to emphasize her point to Elladan, who blushed and stepped back.

When his mother finished her previous sentence, Elladan again broke in, ignoring his father's stern gaze. 'Forgive my interruption. Elrohir is back. May I go meet him?'

Celebrian glanced at her husband, who shrugged his shoulders. 'Very well, Elladan. Do not be too long, please.'

Elladan was halfway to the door before she finished.

Elrohir had already removed Eldroth's saddle by the time Elladan reached the stables. 'Where did you go?' he asked accusingly.

'To get away from everyone,' Elrohir replied simply, putting away the tack.

'Why everyone?' Elladan asked, feeling a pang of jealousy. 'Why did you want to leave me as well?'

'I do not know. Is something wrong?' Finally he looked Elladan in the eye. 'Or am I not allowed to be out of your sight for even three-quarters of an hour?'

'You know that is not the case!' Elladan cried in exasperation. 'Adar and Naneth want us in Daernaneth and Daeradar's rooms.'

'Well, we had better get it over with, then,' Elrohir said shortly, making his way to the door of the stable.


	14. Chapter 14

**Part XIV**

The next morning dawned bright and Peredhil family was quiet; even Celebrían's spirits did not show, for indeed, she no longer felt sure that her choice was correct.

After breakfast, she went to speak to Círdan. 'I do not want to leave, Lord Círdan,' she said, tears welling in her tortured eyes. 'My daughter has begged me to stay, my sons have vowed to pursue revenge for what has been done to me. And my husband... I shall not be able to stand being parted from him for as long as we surely shall be.'

Círdan reassured her, not trying to hold sway over her final decision. 'You must do what you believe is right, what is best for you and your loved ones. If you believe that you will be able to survive and heal fully on this shore, your family will not be the only ones overjoyed. But should you remain and yet fade from memories instead of healing, perhaps it will not change your sons' decisions to get revenge. If you were to sail, imagine your unending joy when you are reunited, and they behold their wife and mother healed, in better health than they had ever seen her before.'

Celebrian bowed her head. Círdan's logic was sound, and in her heart, she knew that there had never been a real choice: she would have to sail or die. To die would kill her husband, perhaps her children as well. Whereas if she sailed, they would not suffer the centuries of waiting in the Halls of Mandos, instead meeting again as a family in the Undying Lands. Softly, so softly that Círdan's elven ears had to strain to hear it, she said, 'I shall sail.'

'It is as you wish, my lady,' Círdan said gruffly. 'Let us return to your family before they wonder where you have gotten to.'

Breakfast was a solemn affair, with no one saying more than they had to. Círdan had told them that the ship was to depart in the evening, about two hours after supper, so as to give the crew and passengers time for their meal and for goodbyes.

No one knew what to do with themselves. The waiting was terrible, Elrond, Celebrian and her parents staying together, while Arwen followed closely behind. The twins, however, avoided their mother whenever possible. Grief was not seen in their features unless one looked closely. The first emotions seen in their faces and in the way they acted were hatred and anger. They would speak to no one but each other, and kept to their rooms.

Celebrian tried going to them once when they refused to come for the midday meal, but both doors were locked. Not a sound came from within, no matter how much she called to them. She would have doubted that they were within were it not for her bond, which convinced her.

Their father and grandfather, as well as Lord Círdan, were angered by this attitude, but even they could not coax a sound from Elladan or Elrohir. Celebrian refused the offer of a master key from Círdan. The twins obviously did not want to speak to anyone, or they were not ready to at any rate, and she had never been one to force them to do something against their will that she did not deem was strictly necessary.

Instead, she had food sent to their rooms, making sure they accepted it by saying that if they would not open their doors for the servant, then she would be forced to accept Círdan's offer of the key.

After a while, they did leave their rooms, though they still avoided their mother when possible. Finally, however, Celebrian cornered them in the sitting room of their room. She got right to the point.

'Why do you avoid me on the day I am to leave, my sons?' She looked from one to the other, waiting for an answer.

The twins stared at the floor, unwilling to make eye-contact. 'We... are not avoiding you, Naneth– '

'You are not? Then may I ask what you _are_ doing?' Celebrian paced in front of them, her eyes brimful of tears.

When neither of them answered, she prodded, 'Is it that you blame me, you are angry with me for what I am choosing?'

'No!' the twins cried together.

'We will not be able to bear it without you, Naneth,' Elrohir finally spoke up, hoping it would satisfy her.

'That is no reason to avoid me. Indeed, I would have thought that it would move you to remain with me. You are not the only one who is about to lose one whom you love. I am about to leave six. There is no reason for you two to suffer alone.'

The twins said nothing. Their mother had read their minds so accurately that it stunned them.

'Will you not join us for the rest of the day?' She knelt down before the twins and took their hands in hers.

The twins rose at the same time, pulling their mother to her feet, horrified at the sight of her kneeling before them, begging them to spend time with her. 'Naneth, do not kneel before us. Indeed, it ought to be the other way around: Elrohir and I have wronged you, Adar and Lord Círdan greatly by keeping to ourselves like this. Forgive us!' Elladan cried, tears making their way down his cheeks as he embraced his mother.

Celebrian returned Elladan's embrace, pulling Elrohir into it as well. 'There is nothing to forgive, my dear.' To lighten the tense air in the room, she gave a quick smile before saying, 'Now go wash your faces, boys, then come to us in the Northern Hall. We have all missed you.'

With that, she left them and returned to the rest of her family.

Elladan and Elrohir did as they had been told – albeit a little reluctantly – and then made their way to the Hall.

Upon entering, Arwen ran to them, laughing or crying: the twins could not tell which. Her eyes were shining with tears, some of which were cascading down her cheeks, and when she tried to talk to them, she buried her face in her hands, overcome by laughter or sobs.

The twins were bewildered. They looked to the elder Elves for an explanation. 'I was telling a tale of your mother's childhood antics,' Celeborn said. 'I am afraid you just missed it.'

Arwen looked up from her hands. 'Do not worry, I shall retell it later. But come, sit down.'

Her brothers did so, eyes wide with shock. Mechanically, they took the wineglasses their sister offered.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with storytelling and laughter – and tears. The time passed quickly, and before the Elves realised it, it was the supper hour.

The meal the servants had prepared was spectacular: roasted venison surrounded by onion and orange slices, mashed potatoes dripping with butter and gravy from the meat. The spicy aroma of thick squash soup tantalised the Elves' noses, and their mouths watered when fresh, crispy rolls were produced. There was corn, beans, carrots and peas for a side-dish. All this was accompanied by glasses of the best Dorwinion in Círdan's wine cellars. Dessert was no less delicious: fresh apple pie with even fresher berries, topped with stiff white whipped cream was served to Lord Círdan and his guests.

Whether it was the food or the tact of those consuming the food, not a dreary sentence was spoken during the meal. Every now and then, the three younger Peredhils fell silent and cast their eyes downwards, but a hand-squeeze – in Arwen's case, who was sitting beside Celebrian, or an encouraging smile – in the twins' cases, who were sitting across from their mother – seemed to remedy the moment.

Finally the meal came to an end, and after a few minutes of talking, thanking and complementing the cooks, the family and their host stood and prepared to leave for the harbour. Cirdan opted to remain at the house, giving the family time to say their own goodbyes.

At the dock, stone benches were strewn over the ground, large enough for three or four at the most. Upon these, the Elves sank down; Galadriel, Celeborn and Arwen on one, Celebrian and Elrond on another, and the twins on a third.

Before long, a horn sounded in the distance. More Elves began to appear, and the benches were filled with those sailing and their loved ones.

The ship came into view. Its magnificent bow cut through the water, sending up spray. The wood was a greyish-white, sloping up from the submerged keel to the smooth deck. Upon the bow sat a beautifully carved swan, its elegant neck stretched forward, as though it were alive, looking expectantly at the land it was ferrying its passengers to. Elves hurried around the decks, preparing for the embarking of those about to sail.

Celebrian and Elrond walked over to their parents and children. Elladan and Elrohir were staring balefully at the ship, their heads resting together as they spoke silently through their bond.

Arwen stood up and went to her parents. 'Must you leave, Naneth?' she asked pleadingly. 'Surely there is someway to remain here and recover.'

Celebrian took her daughter's face in her hands and kissed her forehead. 'I wish to Eru that there were, iel nin, and if there were, trust me, I would stay.' She took one of each twins' hands and pulled them to a standing position. 'I would not be parted from those I love best. But come! Do not mourn me, for we shall meet again one day, in the Land of Bliss.'

By now the ship had arrived at the dock and the Elves were tying it to piers. After the ropes were secured, they lowered the gangplank.

All around the Peredhil family, others were saying their last farewells. Celebrian again kissed Arwen's forehead, taking her in her arms at the same time. 'Farewell, Evenstar. From now on, you shall be the Lady of Imladris in my stead. Take this as token of my love, keep it as a remembrance of your mother Celebrian, until we meet again.'

Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped a silver chain. 'The Evenstar,' she said as she held it before her, admiring it as it shimmered in the setting sun. Upon the chain sat a silver pendant. The silver strands were twined together, forming leaves. Connected to the leaves was a sparkling flower. In the middle of the flower sat a great gemstone, which changed colour when turned to the sun.

Celebrian fastened the necklace round her daughter's neck and embraced her once more.

She moved to her middle child. 'Elrohir...' She broke off, not knowing what to say. How she would miss this Elfling, who always had a hug, a complement, or a flower for her, whatever the situation. While swallowing the lump in her throat, she pulled him to her breast and cried into his hair. 'Think of me when you play your violin, Elrohir. Think of me as I was before, not as I am now. Do not go in search of revenge for indeed, the Orcs have not the victory. They tried to kill me, to quench my light, but they have failed. Do not let them succeed in you.'

Elrohir could not answer. He took her hand and pressed something into it gently. She glanced down. It was a rose, perfect in it's beauty. She felt him place something on her other palm. This time it was a tiny pouch.

'What is it?' she asked.

'Seeds, from the same bush this came off of,' he replied in a small voice, indicating the rose. 'You can plant them in Valinor, and have a bit of Imladris with you.'

'Thank you, my precious boy. I shall plant them at the first moment possible.' She kissed the top of his head. 'Do not forget to join me, you and Elladan and Arwen. I love you.'

Elladan was waiting impatiently by his twin.

'And you, Elladan. I shall miss you, my headstrong warrior. Look after your brother and sister – and your father. As I told your brother, do not seek blood in payment for what has happened, I beg of you.'

As Elladan held her in an embrace so tight she found it difficult to breathe, she murmured into his ear so that no other could overhear her, 'Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen need you to be strong. You must be there for them.' She kissed his cheek. 'Come to me soon, little one, with your father and siblings. I love you, Elladan.'

Next was her mother. 'Farewell, Naneth,' she cried, running into Galadriel's arms. 'Help them!' she sobbed. 'Please, do not leave them alone. Promise me you will not!'

'I promise, Celebrian. Your Adar and I shall visit Imladris as often as we can.'

'Thank you,' gasped Celebrian, trembling from relief. 'Thank you, Naneth. I love you, I always will.'

'I love you too, iel nin. I shall sail when my work here is over. This also I promise. Now hurry, the ship shall not remain here forever.' Galadriel moved back a step and let her husband take her place.

'My Celebrian,' cried her father. 'I also shall come to you. I love you, Celebrian.' He kissed her once, then turned her to face her husband.

She gave a low cry. 'Elrond, meleth-nin, I...' She said no more, but pressed her lips against his. They stood together for a moment, then broke off again as the horn sounded a second time.

'Thank you for choosing me, Celebrian Celeborniel. I will love you, for now and forever.' With that, he escorted her to the gangplank. For a moment they were lost in the crowd of Elves, and Celebrían's parents and children strained to find them again. Then they saw Elrond, standing to one side of the gangplank, and Celebrian, walking up it, waving the hand holding Elrohir's rose at him.

Once on board, she fought her way to the side and searched the crowd. The rest of her family were making their way to Elrond.

A few moments later, the ropes were untied, the gangplank raised, and the ship slowly began to leave the shore. Celebrian leaned over the rail, waving the rose.

The wind whipped her golden hair, causing it to fall forwards and float on the breeze as she leaned over the water.

As the ship sailed farther and farther from the shore, Celebrían's sight blurred with tears. The silvery sheen over her pupils limited her eyesight, and moments later, the dock was but a blur, slowly getting smaller.

A gust of wind caught the rose in her hand. A petal was torn off and it was whisked along, out of sight.

Then she could no longer see anything but the land on the horizon through the blur over her eyes, and the Sea was surrounding her.

On the shore, the Elves stared after the ship bearing their loved ones away from them. Even as it disappeared from sight, something floated gently to the ground in front of the Peredhils. Elrond stooped to pick it up. In the swiftly-fading twilight, he identified it: a petal from a rose.

He ran his finger over the velvety surface, then glanced at Elrohir, who was still staring out to sea.

'Elrohir.'

His son turned at the sound of his name.

Elrond, tears running down his cheeks, stood before him. 'Here.'

Elrohir took the petal silently. He clenched his fist around it, careful not to bruise it. 'Thank you, Adar,' he finally said.

A flash of light came from between two islands rising far out of the Sea, so far the Elves had to strain to see it. It wavered for a moment, then faded, even as the sun went down and darkness blanketed Middle-earth.

 **End of Book One**

 **A/N:** So, here you have book one! Book two is in progress, so updates may not come as often. The second book is called ''Til We Meet Again,' and it may be a little longer than this one. Thank you to anyone who has read this far, and especially to LadyLindariel, who has so faithfully reviewed every chapter!


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